


Glitch

by 00Wandering_Ghost00



Series: Crossovers [1]
Category: Ghost in the Shell (Anime & Manga), Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: #seriouslywhatamidoingwithmylife, Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, Canon Divergence, Crossover, Cyborgs, Drama, Dystopia, Evil governments and corporations, F/M, Ghost in the Shell meets TURN, Investigations, Meaning of Life, No so-called bad and good guys, Okay you can scroll past this now, Stay-at-home-dad Abe, TURN characters in GitS universe, Transhumanism, Where's the border between Human and Machine, experiment gone bad, sniper!mary, soldier!Anna
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-01-16 10:20:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12340749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/00Wandering_Ghost00/pseuds/00Wandering_Ghost00
Summary: Major Hewlett gets tasked by the “Section 9” with investigating their former overseas liaison officer, Captain Simcoe’s death, and the reason why his remains never got back to the UK. He starts with the deceased’s former co-workers, and immediately discovers some fishy details, and agrees to help the Culpers; who also want to uncover the truth about their former liaison officer’s demise, especially after a skirmish with a rogue military-grade cyborg, which has eerie resemblance to someone they all knew…(Technically a crossover between TURN and Ghost in the shell; with some references to Robocop. Written because of a concept thrown around in the comment section of one of my other fics; fused with the main storyline of one of my older original works, and more cyber than punk, but it’s there.)





	1. Aeria Gloris

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there, dear readers!  
> How to put it... This will be my last fanfiction. For a long while. Well, it is possible that I will reTURN to the fandom, but my creative juices sort of ran out. For fanfics I mean. I will keep writing the ones I started, and will finish them before disappearing for good, and I want to work on my original stories, which are also uploaded here, so in case you're interested, you will find me there. :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Major Hewlett arrives and asks around about the relations with his predecessor. He learns that most of the Culper team didn't like the Captain too much, and that they were worried about his anger management issues, which led to the suspicion that he started to, or already developed Cyberpsychosis before his presumed death. He also learns about the curious circumstances of the Captain's demise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate me, but I made some things a bit out of character here (For example, Simcoe working with Caleb and the others). I have a reason for it, and if someone is curious, I will gladly tell why in a comment. Also, I know this story's focus is nothing new, it was literally examined by almost all good science-fiction out there (Including the anime-series I threw our favourite spies and villain into).  
> 

Meet the soldiers: [Glitch_soldiers](https://sta.sh/01flhhvuxpix)

And the sniper: [Glitch_sniper](https://sta.sh/023pzyoq0ula)

* * *

October, 2076.

Major Hewlett looked out of the shuttle’s window. The amalgamation of the three metropolises below known only as New Washington, seemed dark and crowded compared to his home city of Edinburgh. Or the moldy old landscape of London, where his superiors resided. Before the shuttle landed, he remembered the short briefing he got from his colleague, Major André.

The Section 9’s office building was clean, old, preserved by various chemical and technological means, and functionally unnerving, despite its pleasant decorations and antique furniture. Major André was late, Hewlett was waiting for half an hour already, when the sympathetic receptionist – a young woman by the name of Abigail – informed the Major that he’s lucky, because the bloke before him had to wait more than an hour. Finally André showed up, as elegant and near-perfect as always.

“Sorry for keeping you waiting, Edward.” he said as a greeting. Hewlett frowned behind André’s back and he closed his fellow Major’s office door behind him. “It’s Edmund. And according to your receptionist, whoever was here before me got it worse.” André smiled and gestured to the chair in front of his desk. “Take a seat!” Edmund did, and blinked suspiciously as André handed a file over to him. It had a vintage look, like one of those paper or plastic dossiers that were common in the 20th and early 21st centuries. Hewlett placed his palm on the top of the dossier, then watched as it unfolded itself. It contained data about a recently deceased soldier, working overseas as liaison between the Section 9 and their newest addition in the United States. “What happened?” he asked. André shrugged. “As you can see, Captain Simcoe had behavioural issues. That’s why we sent him, to occupy him and maybe prevent him from causing too much trouble. But it seems he successfully antagonized everyone around him, and got himself killed.” Hewlett raised his brow. “Are you saying he got murdered? How come there wasn’t even an investigation?” André shook his head. “No, there is an investigation.” Edmund took another confused look at the digital file’s details. He didn’t see anything about an investigation. “But… There is no record of it, no data, no results…” Major André flashed a hundred-Watt smile. “That is because you will investigate this case.” Hewlett wanted to object, but André interrupted. “We don’t know what happened to the Captain. His remains never even got returned to his family. I trust you, to find out what happened.” Edmund lowered his head, and read the file again absently. André stayed silent until he looked up again. “Start with his former co-workers. They located in the 33rd district of New Washington. I already informed them of your arrival. Dismissed.”

Now, as he stood in the queue to get out from the crowded airport, that now served as a landing place for both old-fashioned airplanes and the newer, less frequently used, but much faster space-shuttle system, he wasn’t sure about the whole thing. Where should he start? How should he approach the problem? Did the department over here even bother to send someone to pick him up, or before he even can start to work, he has to learn how to navigate in the vast city? His gloomy thoughts were interrupted by a loud male voice with strong Irish accent. “That must be him.” a female voice followed asking “You can’t be sure.”her partner shook his head “Nah, he must be the guy. Look, he tumbles around like a baby in the woods.” “Let’s ask him then.” she said. Edmund chose this moment to turn around to them, and take a look. The pair in front of him resembled anything but representatives of a semi-military organization. The woman had long, dark hair, and dark brown eyes, and wore a hexagon patterned dress and high heels. The man next to her looked like he just stepped out from an ancient pirate-novel. Long hair tied in a bun and a barely kept beard hiding his grin as he nudged his colleague. Edmund would have pegged him to be a nomad with the leather jacket and sturdy boots. “Excuse me…” he started, but the woman flashed an ID. “Sorry” Edmund stuttered awkwardly, and fished out his own ID card from his travel bag. The bearded man nudged the woman again. “Told ya!” he said. “Okay, Caleb, you won. I pay for our beer tonight.” she said like a mother would say to her annoying son. “Major Hewlett, welcome to New Washington!” she turned to Edmund afterwards. “I’m Corporal Strong, this is Lieutenant Brewster. We will escort you to our headquarters.” She gestured to an armoured personnel carrier and started to walk. Brewster trotted lazily behind Edmund’s back. “I didn’t expect a welcoming committee, to be honest.” the Major tried to start a conversation. “We thought we will get a new liaison officer.” the Corporal answered. “Well, you certainly know that the circumstances of Captain Simcoe’s death are quite… Unusual.” Edmund said. “I have been tasked by the UK branch of Section 9, to investigate the matter.” “We heard the rumors.” Strong answered on a tone Edmund couldn’t describe otherwise but concerned. “Good old Johnny got us in trouble one last time, eh?” Brewster added. “I’m sorry to upset anyone, but I must proceed with the investigation.” Hewlett defended. “Of course, I will do it in an official manner, not in the back seat of an APC.” “We are grateful for that.” the Lieutenant stated, ending the conversation as Corporal Strong closed the vehicle’s doors and started the engine.

New Washington was – as Edmund was surprised to find out – an enormous patchwork of post-modern industrial megadistricts, and parts where time was frozen in the last century. They drove around a bit, stopping at the Major’s temporary lodge, so he can settle down before continuing their journey to the 33rd district, that meant the core of the giant city. It was all metal and glass, with buildings so tall and wide it seemed they reach into space, while entwine with each other. Edmund saw the web of corridors connecting them, and the small silhouettes of people and humanoid, “Jefferson” type secretary androids. Edmund disliked the mannequin-esque cybernetic helpers designed by and named after the famed engineer, they unnerved him. Also at the same time, the bright, colourful neon lights that were everywhere, stroke him as a serious contrast with the otherwise bleak outlook of the business district. After an hour of travelling, the APC docked into the garage of a big building, that was segmented into smaller sections, each divided by a letter. “We’ll be at block C.” Corporal Strong informed Hewlett as he fumbled out from the vehicle. “Ah, right…” Edmund answered “I just need to get used to walking again. Is it always that long and tedious to get here?” the Corporal smiled, and shook her head. “No, we live quite close actually. The complex has an apartment building. We all have been housed there. You will too, eventually.” Edmund nodded. “Ah, so it is similar to a military base.” “We even have a bar.” Strong added. “The Raspberry Brandy. You should definitely go there; every liaison officer gets a free drink on first visit.” she smiled sweetly. “Don’t believe her, Major.” Brewster added “She’ll get you the worst hangover of your life.” Hewlett chuckled along with the laughing soldiers, all the while asking himself if they pranked Simcoe like this.

_Day 1:_

Major Hewlett settled behind his new desk, and flipped the file open again, to read everything he needed to know about the first person he was about to question. He hasn’t yet met Private Woodhull, the sniper of the unit under a certain Major Tallmadge’s command. Edmund quickly flipped through the Private’s psychological examination, cybernetics and former assignments. He just finished, when he heard a faint knock on the metal frame of his office-door. “Ah, you’re here already? Come in!” he gestured to the chair in front of his desk. Mary Woodhull stepped in, and closed the door behind her. As she sat down, Hewlett noticed the different hue of her right eye. “Before I say anything, I would like to know what charges your branch intends to press against ours.” Mary stated. Edmund raised his brow, but before he could speak, the woman continued. “My husband is a lawyer, so you know we have him if needed.” Edmund cleared his throat. “Mrs. Woodhull, nobody is pressing charges against anyone. There are no suspects yet, I’m just here, because my superiors, along with myself, would like to know what happened. None of you is in trouble.” Mary seemed relaxed. “I need to ask you a few questions regarding Captain Simcoe, and your co-workers.” Edmund said in an official tone. “I need every detail you can tell me. It is an official investigation, so the consequences of misleading or false testimony apply accordingly with local law.” Mary answered with a short “Understood.” then began to tell her version of the events. “At first, I didn’t like the Captain. He was too official, condescending, and distanced. It all changed after the first month. He started to spend a lot of time with Anna… I mean Corporal Strong, and it had a positive effect on his demeanor. But there was something off with him still. No matter how close he came to every one of us, he still remained cold. And I think I know why.” Edmund leaned a bit closer to Mary. “Go on.” he said. “What is your theory on the Captain’s odd behaviour?” Mary flashed a bitter smile, and pointed at her right eye. “As you probably see, and read in my file, I have been cybernetically augmented.” Hewlett nodded. “I sacrificed a piece of my humanity, to be more effective at my job.” Mary continued. “The Captain was tough, to a point of being near-indestructible. We had a bet going on if it’s just exceptional luck, or the effect of a cybernetic or bionic implant. Major Tallmadge checked the Captain’s file, but we couldn’t find any records of him being augmented or otherwise equipped with either cybernetics or bionics. So my only guess was that whatever he had, has to be illegal.” Edmund wrote something to his PDA, and looked back at Mary. “Did you find any evidence, that suggested the Captain has any illegal, military grade implants?” he asked. Woodhull shook her head. “I found no evidence to any implants, but I have found matching symptoms with a mental illness common among cyber-soldiers. I guess you already know about your dear colleague’s anger management issues, among others.” Hewlett nodded again. “You suggest that Captain Simcoe’s behaviour was affected by cyberpsychosis?” he asked. “It is very likely, if you know what to look for.” Mary explained. “All symptoms matched. You see, ever since I have this little gadget in my skull, I have to go to a psychological check-up every single month. Even one little implant can lead to disaster in an otherwise unstable person’s psyche.” Edmund stared at the wall behind Woodhull for a short while. He was recounting the symptoms of the mental condition Mary referred to. “Cyberpsychosis manifests in many ways.” he sighed. “Anger management issues and detachment from people is just the most common symptoms. Also these symptoms could be linked to an entirely different mental illness that went unnoticed.”

They were silent for a short while, then Edmund gestured to Mary, encouraging her to carry on with her testimony. “Anyway. There was no trace of the source for the Captain’s mental illness.” she continued. “No psychological record, no medical reports, nothing. It was odd, and we contacted his superiors at the UK branch of Section 9.” “Did they provide you with any answer?” Hewlett asked. Mary shook her head. “No, they told us that the medical and psychological records of their personnel were classified, and we didn’t have the necessary credentials. We tried another way though, by contacting Colonel Hamilton, but as far as we know, he didn’t get through to anyone who could shed some light on the case.” “What happened then?” Edmund wasn’t sure if he believed Woodhull’s story yet, but she was very convincing. The Major had a creeping suspicion of something fishy going on between the two branches of their organization. “Simcoe got suspicious, and he started to ask around what we were doing with Hamilton, and why were we trying to evade him, or go around him and ask for information. He was acting paranoid too.” Mary said absently. “He started to accuse of his co-workers of being some double agents, and he was convinced that someone was trying to kill him.” Edmund raised his brow. This started to get really interesting. “And was there any attempt to assassinate the Captain?” Mary lowered her head, and brushed her hair from her face. “You see… I was there on our last mission. I wasn’t close, I was positioned on a rooftop nearby, but could see and hear everything through my radio and the scope of my rifle.” She seemed like it was hard for her to talk about the event. “I still have nightmares of it.” she confessed, brushing her face with her hand before continuing. “We still don’t know how those guys got that old Spider to work. I mean, they hacked a tank, that was rusting in an abandoned warehouse.” She was searching for words, but after a short pause, she continued. “Lieutenant Brewster, Corporal Strong and Captain Simcoe were scattered around the Spider, trying to distract the targeting system. The tank was protecting an entrance to the presumed hideout of a known terrorist organization by the name “Sons of Liberty”. It’s a bit ironic, considering our country’s history.” Edmund typed something again in his PDA, while gesturing to Mary to encourage her to carry on. “Our weapons had little to no effect on the armored shell of the Spider, so the Captain ordered Brewster and Strong to stay clear. He…” Mary shook her head like she was still in disbelief of the Captain’s actions. “The Captain wanted to place explosives on the tank’s sensor, and he succeeded. The problem was after the batch of C144 exploded. The Spider still had sensory input, and returned the fire. The Captain was hit, his left leg was torn off by a bullet.” Hewlett checked the report on Simcoe’s death, but he once again found suspicious that no cause of death was mentioned. “He died of blood loss?” he asked Woodhull, but she gave a nervous chuckle. “Oh, God, I wish that would be the case. No, the Spider stepped closer before any of us could interfere, and a sort of arm? Pincer? I don’t really know what extended from the tank, and grabbed the Captain’s torso…” Mary shuddered, and her face became sickly pale. “I still hear his ribcage crushing, and that gagging sound he made. After that, the thing just dropped him. Brewster finally got it with a Scud. And that’s not the worst of it.” Edmund raised his brow. “I seriously can’t imagine what could be worse.” he confessed. Mary sighed. “I… I wasn’t there when Corporal Strong and the rest of the team went back to get the Captain’s remains. But ask her, and she will back me up on this: Simcoe was still alive. Whatever implant he had, kept him alive for hours after his leg got torn off and his upper body was literally crushed into a pulp by a combat-robot. He died shortly after Anna and the team arrived and took him away with them.” Major Hewlett typed another note for himself, and leaned his head to his hand, his elbow resting on the surface of his desk. “How come Captain Simcoe’s body never got back to his home country? We didn’t receive any information about his death, other than it was caused by “external forces”, and “in action”. Something tells me though, that there is more to this.” Mary nodded. “You aren’t the only one, Major.” Edmund stood up, and gestured towards his door. “Thank you, Mrs. Woodhull. You may leave now.” Mary did, and Edmund followed. He needed time and a cup of tea to think.

 

_Day 2:_

Major Hewlett started his day early. He wrote reports, and was keep on thinking about the things Mary Woodhull said yesterday. The rogue Spider tank, the terrorist organization, and most importantly, the supposed illegal cyber-implants of his deceased colleague. That was more than enough to commence an internal investigation, and also Edmund found himself to be oddly curious about how could someone keep something as illegal cyber implants secret with the frequent medical and psychological examinations the Section 9 demanded from its employees worldwide. He thought he will discuss this later with Major André via e-mail, but now he must focus on the interview of his next subject, Lieutenant Caleb Brewster.

He still looked like a pirate from days of old, his leather jacket lazily dropped to the backrest of his chair, his hair still in a messy bun and his beard is still all over the place. He seemed less friendly today, but more hungover. Edmund had a second thought about going through with the interview, but Brewster was already there. “Lieutenant, could you describe your relationship with the late Captain?” Hewlett asked, and the pirate-looking soldier spoke. “John was a weird guy. One moment, he was like the biggest dickbag in the universe, and the next, he cried because a girl broke his heart. I couldn’t figure him out.” Hewlett took notes. “Did you know if he had any illegally or otherwise obtained cybernetic or bionic implants?” Caleb shook his head. “He was one tough bastard though.” Edmund looked away deep in thought. “I heard the story of the Captain being crushed by a military cyborg.” he said “And that he was miraculously still alive when you and Corporal Strong returned to the scene to retrieve his remains.” Caleb chuckled, but his voice was without joy. “Alive? Yes, if you could call a heap of bloody meat still struggling to breathe with his destroyed lungs a state of living. Also, I still couldn’t wrap my head around how it took so long for Johnny to bite the dust with the ungodly amount of blood loss.” “There must be something to the rumour then.” Edmund added. “Aye, I heard that.” Brewster scoffed. “I even made a bet on the bastard to secretly have been ‘borged. That would explain why he was so haywired.” Hewlett tilted his head. “By ‘haywired’, you mean his anger management problems?” “Calling it anger management problems are an understatement, Major. He was freakin’ monstrous if he was seeing red.” Caleb answered. “Many times got suspected of having some sort of psychosis. He revelled in violence.” Edmund wrote that down too. He got questions upon questions, and none of them was answered so far. “We know that the Captain had serious behavioural issues, and I will inquire about the absence of a trial and discharge in his case.” He told Brewster after a long pause. “Aye, you do that, Major.” the Lieutenant said aridly. “May you have better luck, finding out who screwed up what in your side of the pond, than us.” After the Lieutenant left, Major Hewlett did just what he said he would: he dug deep into the files of his own branch, dating before Captain Simcoe’s relocation. He found a few suspicious details. There were signs of medical records, but all of them were classified, and the Major couldn’t see them. Also some mails going between various superiors of the branch, classified as well. Something was definitely going on behind the scenes, but Edmund couldn’t figure out what yet.

In the meantime, Caleb sat alone at the Raspberry Brandy, staring into his Irish coffee, lost in memories. He didn’t really mourn the Captain. None of them did. Caleb spoke about it with Anna the other day, and she confessed to feel a sense of relief over his death. But he was bothered by the same things that bothered Major Hewlett. Deleted or falsified medical records, a terrorist organization with a military grade robot in their possession, and the convenient proximity of their unit to the terrorists’ hideout. Maybe Simcoe wasn’t entirely crazy. Maybe someone did want to kill him. Brewster let a sigh out, and looked at Robert, the bartender, who went over to him and poured just a little more whiskey into that coffee. “Thanks, Rob.” Caleb said, and swallowed the contents of the cup in one go. “You seem quite gloomy today.” Robert commented. Caleb shrugged. “I just had a rough day, that’s all. With all the questioning and the cleaning up after the mess we got into, thanks to the now late Captain Dickbag.” Robert cleaned a glass while adding “You mean the investigation the British branch of your organization ordered? Are there any clues to what really happened?” Caleb shook his head. “They’re just as much in the dark as we are. Our branch might even have more clues than theirs.” Robert nodded. “Well, it might sound weird, but I find this place to be much more quiet without the Captain. I think you know what I mean.” Caleb knew. He smiled bitterly, as he remembered some things from the past four years they had to spend together with the fiery haired and similarly tempered man. The pranks they played on each other. The name-calling game they invented, positively driving Ben, Anna, and generally everyone insane with it. The first real fight they got into, and how John became cold, detached and sarcastic towards all of them. Caleb found himself justifying Simcoe’s behaviour. He himself would be quite upset, if the people he thought to be his friends, would turn out to be spying after him. But he couldn’t help it. He was an investigator at NWPD, before ending up with the mysterious, international anti-terrorist organization only known as “Section 9”. It was his job to gather information about people. He could hear the captain’s comically high-pitched voice saying “Hey Caleb, I’ve found your nose! It was in my business again!” and it made him smile bitterly. “If someone would stand in front of me a year before and tell me, that I will sit here now, and mope around because of the death of Johnny Douchebag Simcoe, I would probably hit them and laugh my ass off.” he stated after a long pause. Robert finished cleaning the glasses, and he turned his attention to the surface of the bar. “He was… An interesting person, that’s for sure. We all loved to hate him, and hated to love him, but he influenced all of us in one way or another.” Caleb laughed. “Did you practice this speech to say at his funeral, or something?” “Actually, no.” Robert answered “I told him in person. About one week before he died. He seemed… Lost in thought, asking about Private Woodhull and Corporal Strong, and he was curious of what we, as co-workers and acquaintances, think of him in general.” “The always self-conscious dick, he was.” Caleb added. “And batshit crazy, in the bad way.” Robert paused and looked up, with a contemplating look on his face. “Actually, I had a suspicion that he acts like that on purpose. I mean, sure, he was unpredictable, violent, and a general pain in the ass, but I saw that day a face of him I never considered him to have.”

 

_Day 3:_

Anna was on an emotional roller coaster all day. She was preparing for her interview with Major Hewlett, and tried to be ready to talk about things she’d rather forget. She found an old picture on her bookshelf, with herself on it, along with Mary, her husband Abe, Caleb, Ben, Robert…and John. She remembered that day clearly, though it happened four years ago. The day she and John sort of broke up. Anna frowned, and sat down, picture still in hand. Their on and off relationship was never really something she could call serious. Anna remembered having sleepless nights over the thought of defiling her late husband, Selah’s memory by sleeping with another man, but she never talked about that. Everyone would say that it’s stupid anyway. At first, she refused any and all attempts at getting close, but John was persistent. Anna hated it and liked it at the same time. She couldn’t say that he wasn’t her type either. She was always a sucker for the tall, broad-shouldered ones. But the similarities between John and Selah ended with their similar height and blue eyes. Where her late husband was silent and calm, John was loud and intense. Selah was distant, John was too close, ignoring boundaries. He was simply too much. At least too much for Anna to handle. So she convinced herself that it should never work. He didn’t make a scene, but they had a fight after they got back to their quarters. He left the next day, and work became another pit in her personal hell afterwards. They should be separated, Anna thought. Work policy forbade any and all romantic relationships between workers of the same unit. John found a loophole in the system though, he always did. He stayed with them, with her, to mercilessly remind her of her mistake. He also became cold. To Anna, it was a clear sign, that she made the right choice when she ended their budding romance prematurely. She wasn’t prepared to see him die though. “I didn’t want you to go.” she whispered to John’s reflection on the photograph. “I wanted you to change. To stop smothering me, to give me time. But you just had to screw up everything, didn’t you?” Anna sighed, and stood up, throwing the picture into her trash bin.

As she was sitting in front of Major Hewlett, answering his questions, she realised that their new liaison officer fascinates her. He was empathetic, giving some answers to her, while asking another question and another. He was just as much in the dark as Anna and her friends. That made her think.

The Major was positively scared in the Corporal’s presence. He never really knew how to act around her. Edmund tried to focus on his prepared questions, reading notes in her personal file, and that’s how he found out that she was widowed. “My husband’s death was the reason for me to enlist.” Anna said, smiling bitterly. “I wanted to act, to do something other than watching the news and being afraid for my life.” She turned away. “I never imagined to meet my friends here. I knew they were in the police or military, but to be gathered into the same unit… It was unexpected.” Edmund smiled, thinking that she somehow found the memory pleasant. Then she turned back to him, and continued speaking. “Our first briefing with John… I mean Captain Simcoe was unexpectedly short and he was acting like a conceited, simpering moron. All of us hated him from day one.” Hewlett could easily imagine his ex-colleague with his quite unpleasant demeanour, telling his new co-workers what to expect from him and his branch of the organization. He only met Simcoe once or twice, but it was more than enough for him. Then he remembered something. “I…ah, excuse me, Mrs. Strong, but I heard from your co-workers, that you and the Captain became… very close after a time.” Anna sighed. So she had to speak about that mistake of the past. “I… We did, yes. But it was only a short affair, never really got into the way of our work-relationship.” she lied. She knew. Anna could only hope that Major Hewlett doesn’t see right through her, or if he does, he won’t tell. “His death must have affected you on a deeper level though.” He said finally, on a compassionate tone. “You were there with him.” Anna suddenly could hear bones crack. She heard John’s pained cry muffled into gurgling sounds as he was drowning in his own blood. “I couldn’t help him, Major. No one could.” she shook her head, hoping to shake the memory off. She succeeded for the moment. “Something kept him alive, or at least in a stabilized state, until you and Lieutenant Brewster got to him.” Edmund read from his notes. Anna nodded, but she didn’t hear him. She was hearing John calling her name, she saw his smile… Then it turned into the bloody massacre again. She was telling herself she didn’t love him. Yet his passing harrowed her day by day. Major Hewlett called her name, so she looked up. “Sorry Major.” she reached out and touched her forehead. The interview started to give her a headache. “Could we just continue with this interrogation someday later? I don’t feel so well today.” She didn’t expect him to understand, but the Major just nodded. “Should I escort you to the infirmary?” he asked. “No, thank you.” she answered. “I wouldn’t want to keep you from your work.” Edmund put his notes down. “Don’t mind it.” he smiled. “It can wait.” Anna tried to smile back. “Thank you then.” she managed to say, and let the Major accompany her on her way to the doctor’s office. He then left, probably went back to his investigation, as Anna thought. “I need another batch of memory suppressants.” she told the nurse, and waited until her prescription came.

Major Hewlett did go back to work, though he kept thinking about Corporal Strong’s strange, moody behaviour. He wanted to know more, but didn’t want to be intrusive. He needed time and more information to solve this case, that got stranger by the minute.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the unusual setting wasn't too off-putting to anyone. Everything has a reason. 
> 
> Up next: Am I human? a.k.a. Do cyborgs really dream of electric sheep?


	2. My Electronic Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet Benedict Arnold, former corrupted cop, CEO of the corporation called Armatech. Also meet his new pet project, a heavily armored police/military cyborg named "Ranger 01".  
> Do cyborgs dream? Benedict's wife and leading cybernetic specialist Peggy Arnold tries to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long ass chapter, and the techblahblah. Also for the pseudo-philosophy and science. I shouldn't really write about stuff I have no idea of, but I guess it can't be helped. Oh, and this one is even less similar to Ghost in the Shell, rather has a load of Robocop references and some nasty words. I warned you.

Meet the Cyborg: [Glitch cyborg](https://sta.sh/01dz3qazo3g8)

And the Corporate: [Glitch corporate](https://sta.sh/01v3slgla2bm)

Also, [this chapter's theme song.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jFYWR5eZd2o)

* * *

He didn’t remember what happened to him. Only flashes of memories of a fight somewhere, with someone he couldn’t recall and then it all went black and he woke up lying in a field out in nowhere. Captain Simcoe lifted his hand to wipe the dirt off his face and stood up to take a look around. Everything seemed surreal, too bright, too colourful. And he definitely wasn’t in New Washington, rather in his hometown in England. “Just what the actual holy, flying fu…” before he could end his rhetorical question, the scenery suddenly began to glitch, and literally fell apart. Like it was some kind of a badly rendered CGI setting. He looked down at his hands, and watched with terror as he himself came undone, falling apart to broken pieces of code.

Then it was all over.

 

The next time he came to his senses, he could feel nothing. Literally nothing, but he could see somehow. Though his vision was fixed and…glitching.

“I don’t know, how you got the authorization on this project, Benedict.” he suddenly heard a female voice, but its owner was out from his field of vision. “You are no scientist, and have no idea if it could work.” The man the other called Benedict walked into Simcoe’s sight. Another flash of memory attacked his already overwhelmed mind, and he recognized the other man as the one he got into a fight with…hell knows how long ago.

“This project could help our military and our police forces, if all goes well. It depends on you.”

A small, blonde woman appeared next to Benedict. “I have a bad feeling about this.” she confessed. “What?” he asked. “Using a human as part of the project.” she explained. Arnold shrugged. “Biologically, he’s dead. So we can do whatever we want to with the corpse." Simcoe wanted to protest, but he found that he couldn’t speak. He also couldn’t move, but he tried. Something fell off from the table nearby, and the woman turned to him with a terrified look on her face. “It can hear us, can it?” Benedict asked. “I just… I have to turn it off.” the woman muttered and everything went black.

An eternity later, he woke up again, his vision still fixed, but without the glitch, and now he could move his head around to see where he was. It was some kind of a laboratory. “It’s on again?” he once again heard the familiar voice of the woman from before. “It shouldn’t be. I requested to keep it shut down until the testing’s end!” Another voice answered, one Simcoe didn’t hear before. “Sorry ma’am, must be part of the test runs. The cameras are tested among the other systems.” The Captain’s thoughts were racing in his mind, questions upon questions. He tried to overcome the looming bad feeling of something being not right. Was he injured so much that he got paralyzed? Did he lose his biological eyes, because his sight was obviously cybernetically enhanced… And fixed to one point, to the other end of the lab. “What’s happening?” he heard his own voice suddenly, but it was also warped… mechanical. “Where am I? What are you doing to me?” The few people in the closed area at the other end of the laboratory seemed to be panicked. And instead of getting answers, the usual blackness came.

Peggy levelled her hand from the button she hit the moment the test subject started to use the speakers to communicate. She could see on the monitors, that all parts of the Prototype functioned, but still there was a small disturbance getting them to accept the control of the host brain. And when they did, the thing started either to scream, or asking questions. Disturbing questions. “He’s still there.” she mumbled. The technician sitting next to her didn’t even hear her. After their shift was over, Peggy wandered around the containment unit of Armatech Ranger 01, or AR01 for short. “Can you hear me?” she asked. The big, cybernetic monstrosity hanging from the ceiling seemed to be shut down. No sudden movement, no pained screaming of terror, no sudden interrogation of the working crew. Peggy sighed, and went into the testing area, and pushed some buttons to turn on lights and one of the computers. It monitored the host brain’s activity. She raised her brow and followed the numbers and various other data flowing on the chart. The host brain was active. It was dreaming… or remembering things.

  _“Can you hear me?” doe-eyes and truffle hair are the last things he sees before his vision starts to blur, and his struggled breathing stops. “Hang on, you bastard… John? John!”_

 

“It is just a machine.” Peggy heard Benedict say, while she was observing the host brain’s activity the next day. “It calculates numbers, and does what it was programmed to. I don’t think you should be worried about it.” Peggy stood up and turned to her husband. “My dear. I don’t think you fully understand the complexity of a human brain if you think that.” she took a deep breath, and a glance towards the towering, humanoid tank with a dead man’s brain in it. “The project must be abandoned.” she said finally. “Why?” Benedict asked “Because it spoke to you? The platform program should take care of anything that’s left there, if it is true and not just some sentimental delusion of yours.” Peggy’s expression hardened. “Whoever he was, he’s still there. The host brain is conscious. Sentient. That means…” “That means nothing.” Arnold interrupted. “Let me be honest with you, dear wife of mine: Armatech is dying. If the Ranger project fails, we’re done for good. So your job here is not to think, not to feel sorry for a dead SOB, whose brain ended up in the test row. You are paid to make this project successful, and contribute to the corporation’s survival. Am I being clear?” Peggy clenched her jaw, but managed to utter “Abundantly.” between her teeth. The test-runs were nearing their end. Peggy tried to delay the installation process as long as possible, and managed to build a balance between the Prototype’s parts and the host brain, so when the thing was active, it could move around, walk, pick up items. It didn’t speak to her anymore.

 He felt like time somehow became irrelevant. He was floating in memories, seeing faces and repeating conversations that happened in another life.

_A bearded man in a leather jacket sits in front of him, and turns around as he enters the room. Opposite of the table, a woman with dark hair and eyes raises her head. “Hey, Captain Dickbag!” the man greets him. “Good morning, Lieutenant Douchenazzle!” he ripostes. The woman rolls her eyes. “Caleb, John! How old are you, ten?”_

He picks up a glass and the metal fingers fold around it slowly. He sees another reflection of a memory.

_“I’m going to be honest with you, Captain. I don’t love you. Never did, and never will.” her eyes reflect the light of the electronic fireplace. “What happened between us, was nothing but a sad mistake.” He feels like the sky collapsed on him. “Anna, what’s your problem?” She looks him in the eye with that sad and angry expression he fell in love with. “You are the problem, John. You, and your bullying and intimidating people to do what you want them to. Your violent temper and disregard for people. Would it hurt you to be empathetic towards someone, for once? You’re like a fucking hurricane, and I’m done with living in a disaster site.”_

The glass broke into a million tiny pieces. He was just staring at the mess on the floor. He heard voices speaking. Then the darkness came.

“Can you hear me?” Peggy asked again from the six feet three monstrosity that was seated in front of her. The Ranger unit raised its head to look at her. Peggy felt uneasy. They designed the unit to resemble a soldier in full body armour and helmet. The latter was removable, if any repair work or adjustments were necessary, and also for the life-support with the host-brain to be accessible. The head was made after a scan of the deceased’s own head, so the brain would perfectly fit its new home in the Ranger unit’s metallic skull. It also resulted in a face that was recognizable as the person the brain once belonged to. Synthetic flesh and skin made the resemblance more accurate. If Peggy wouldn’t know otherwise, she would think that she was looking at a man in a heavy armour suit. But she knew, she was there from the beginning. “Do you remember anything?” she spoke again, but the cyborg seemed to be ignoring her, or had some error with its speech system. Peggy turned to the computer terminal in front of her, and adjusted some numbers. She then pulled out a wire and a plug, then went behind the frame of the Ranger unit’s seat, to access its panels on the back of its neck. “Please, I need to know before I initiate the process. Are you still there? Do you remember anything?”

The cyborg moved its head, and tried to look at Peggy, who put the plug into the socket in the unit’s neck and went back to face it. “What’s your name?” she asked. The Ranger unit blinked, and finally spoke, though its voice was still warped.

“Captain John Graves Simcoe. Section 9 UK. Born 25th of February, 2052. Unit number 38.” Peggy was terrified, listening to the cyborg as he recited data from his former life. She panicked, and initiated the platform program install sequence. The computer’s screen went blue, and it read “Ready for cerebral upload. Warning: New data will erase everything in memory. Do you want to proceed?” Peggy hit “Yes” without thinking. The cyborg still repeated its former name, rank, birth date and station, until his speech was interrupted by a loud scream. Peggy never was a religious person, but she found herself saying a prayer.

“How is it going?” Benedict asked. The test-runs were at their final stage, so he wanted to know how longer he has to wait before calling the firm’s partners. Peggy looked tired and broken, black spots around her eyes, and her cup of coffee was probably not the first one that day. “The platform program works exceptionally well. His motoric coordination developed to the desired level. As you can see, his movement is much more fluid now, and we managed the week without any other accidents than a broken glass.” Arnold glanced at the Ranger unit, that was standing idly in its container. “How about its skill sets? Do they work?” Peggy took a sip from her coffee, and flipped open a file. “He was a soldier in his former life. Weapons were familiar for him, so he did everything like it was routine.” Benedict looked at his wife with curiosity. “You talk about it like it’s human.” he commented. Peggy looked at him exhaustedly. “He was human once. But now… I don’t know what he is.” “Armatech Ranger 01. The last hope we have.” Benedict added. Peggy almost laughed it sounded so much like a bad commercial slogan.

 And their commercial was bad indeed. The military didn’t want a new cyborg, with the problems of the current ones. Benedict and Armatech turned to the police then. It all went wrong, nobody wanted a military unit, capable of eliminating small groups of people all by itself. “What if it malfunctions? Nobody can stop it.” they said. “People don’t trust the police already; they will not tolerate robots telling them what to do.” came the other excuse. Benedict was mad. He didn’t want to honour his part of the deal he made, long before the first Ranger unit was built and got out from the factory. He sat down in front of his computer, and wrote a letter. “I hope you meant what you said Cooke.” he muttered, then hit “send”.

Peggy was staring at the container, like she did every night ever since she got this project. The unit’s host-brain was processing the data it gathered through the day. She sat in front of her monitor, and watched the cyborg’s seemingly endless number-crunching. Then she noticed the random pauses and words. Words like “Self”, “Soul”, “Life”, “Monster”, “Kill”, “Restore”, “Dead”, and “Warrior” attached to various random rows of numbers and symbols. Peggy stared at them wondering what might they mean. She knew the meaning of each word, of course, but she had a suspicion that these words being in the code may mean that the platform program’s installation process wasn’t entirely successful, and the host brain’s former personality, the “soul” of who he was, survived it. She found herself reaching out and holding the Ranger unit’s cold metal hand, saying “Hang in there!” Whatever that meant, she felt a bit less like a murderer by saying it. He, of course was unaware of her little gesture, because of the data analysing. Or was he? Peggy felt her heart jump when the cyborg folded its fingers around her hand, but its grip wasn’t too firm, she could pull away if she wanted. “What in the world we had done?” she asked herself once again.

 Colonel Cooke responded quickly, and much to Benedict’s surprise, the organization he was working for ordered a small army of Rangers. They only needed to see what they are capable of. Benedict faced a hard decision. He never tested the Rangers in an actual combat situation. Cooke’s superiors needed to know if they can be trusted. It could mean the stairway to heaven or the quick road to oblivion for Armatech. He also didn’t have time to think it through, because Cooke demanded immediate response. Benedict never backed down from a hard situation, and he didn’t intend to do so. He wrote a reply, accepting every condition the clients made. He felt like signing a death warrant. If it was his own, or someone else’s, he didn’t know yet. 

 

_Day 4:_

Major Hewlett sat on the rooftop, and was disappointed to see the heavy curtain of clouds obscuring the view of the stars that night. It was nearing sunrise, but he couldn’t force himself to sleep after the long and tedious day he had. He watched the clouds instead, feeling the light rainfall on his face. He caught himself thinking about Corporal Strong, and wondering about her welfare. He felt a sense of sadness attached to her, which, after losing two men she supposedly loved was no surprise. A clicking sound ended his train of thought, and he surprisedly saw no other than the woman who was in his thoughts, standing a few feet away, lighting a cigarette, staring at the clouds, just like he did. “Good morning, Corporal!” he greeted her, and she turned towards him, with wide eyes, then her expression changed into a warm smile. “’Morning, Major! You’re always up so early.” He looked back at the endless sky shyly. “You know, I wanted to see the stars before I retire, but sadly it’s very cloudy today.” Anna followed his gaze up, and added “You better get used to it, we have a lot of rain at this time of the year. If you stay until summer, maybe you’ll have better luck.” Edmund felt strange. Like she was expecting him to stay and come back to this rooftop in the summertime, to look at the stars. Maybe with her? Or maybe he was just over-analysing a simple comment. He probably did. “I don’t think I will be here in the summer, I’m afraid.” he said, ending the conspiracy theory he started to weave in his mind. “Shame.” Anna said, turning her attention to her little rod of death she was smoking. “We could use a decent liaison between the UK branch and us, you know.” she added after a short pause. “Poor Gilbert can’t do everything all by himself.” Hewlett blinked in confusion. “Gilbert?” he echoed. Anna turned back to him, and seeing his expression, she quickly explained “Gilbert Lafayette. The French guy you probably saw once or twice in the cantina. Now he’s doing Simcoe’s job as well as his own.” Edmund nodded. “I see. Well, my job is waiting for me, so if you don’t mind, I would like to continue our interview later today.” Anna exhaled a cloud of silvery-white smoke, and shrugged. “We could just continue it here and now.” she said indifferently. “If we’re already talking.”

Meanwhile, somewhere in downtown New Washington, the Ranger 01 stood on a rooftop, waiting for its master’s orders. He was listening to the sounds of the city in the rainy morning, the people under his feet, the conversations, the radio traffic. And he calculated the optimal way to execute the order when it came. The cyborg jumped down from the roof, and crashed into the other building under the one he descended from. The people there were horrified when a six feet three, three hundred pounds of metal came through the ceiling, landed on their table, and immediately shot three of them in the head, while proceeding to use another one as a living shield, to prevent the security from attacking it. He made a massacre, but it was nothing more than numbers and possible escape routes for him. He made his way out to the street, when his targeting system alarmed him that a heavy vehicle is in close proximity. He turned his head to physically see what’s going on, when the APC hit him, pressing his metal frame to the building’s wall.

 

“Get the Tin Can Man, Caleb!” Anna said, her foot still on the pedal. She felt the cyborg’s inhuman strength pushing the two-ton armoured car slowly away from its body. They got the order to move out shortly after Anna went back to her quarters. Her chat with Major Hewlett went better than yesterday. She was about to go to the shooting ground to practice, when Caleb and Mary knocked on her door. “We got some work to do, Annie! Get yourself together, and meet us in the garage.” he said, and she followed. Mary got positioned near the building they learned to be the hall of an influential political party. There were hostages and dead, but mostly dead. Police declared it a terrorist attack, so they got the order to move out immediately. Caleb got out of the APC, just in time before the cyborg pushed it far enough away to be able to jump on its rooftop, and make a run for it. Caleb cursed and followed the thing, while informing Mary of the target’s whereabouts, so she could also find a better position to shoot if necessary. “You won’t run away that easily, you bastard.” Caleb muttered while stopping to aim at the running cyborg. He shot at it, but the bullet barely managed to scratch the thing. “Girls, I think we have a little problem.” he said to his radio. “The motherfucker is armored to the nuts, I couldn’t even prick its hide.” The familiar soothing tone of Ben Tallmadge’s voice came in the line. “Keep chasing and corner it, we’ll go and relocate Mary, so she can attempt a shot.” “Got it!” Caleb answered and continued to run after the humanoid hurricane that ran as fast as their APC. Caleb knew he won’t lose its trail though, because the heavy frame of the cyborg left prints in the asphalt. He followed them, until he reached an open square among the buildings. It gathered the rain into a big puddle, and a lonely, half-dead tree was peeking through the cracks in the concrete pavement. “Come out, come out, wherever you are!” Caleb said to the seemingly empty space. He then heard a loud thump behind him, and ducked just in time before the cyborg’s fist punched a hole into the wall where his head was just moments ago. “I’m here!” the thing trilled on a creepy, high-pitched tone Caleb knew too well. He was standing there, shocked as the cyborg grabbed him and threw him away. He hit the wall, and fought against blacking out. A sound of metal scraping against metal forced Caleb to return to his senses, before the nasty looking, serrated armblade protruding from the cyborg’s right hand cut a deep gap on the wall behind him. “Don’t run, it’s no use!” the thing taunted Caleb, but he knew better. “Mary, do you copy?” he asked through the radio, while trying not to sound desperate and scared out of his mind. “I hear you.” she answered. “Can you get a clear shot at the bastard?” Caleb asked, while dodging another attempt at severing his head from his neck. “Not yet.” he heard Mary say. “Guide it left a little… to the tree.” Caleb muttered something about it being easier said than done, but he once again fired some shots at the mechanical monster. The bullets ricocheted, igniting sparks in their wake. “Told you. It’s no use.” the cyborg said again, then threw Caleb right next to the tree. The stale water of the puddle made a loud splashing sound as he landed in it. The cyborg stepped over to him, and grabbed him with one hand, while raising the other, with the blade in it. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it quick.” the thing said. Caleb closed his eyes. Mary chose this exact moment to shoot, and she hit the cyborg in the head. The thing dropped Caleb and fell over. She thought that was all, but then the machine stood up. It was missing its headgear. At first, Mary only saw the horror and recognition on Caleb’s face, then the cyborg turned its head towards her, the direction where the shot came from, and now she saw it too. The face all of them knew. “Dear mother of god…” Mary whispered, and attempted another shot at the thing as it darted off into the night. She missed. 

“I know what I saw.” Caleb said later, putting the pack of ice over his blackened eye. “It was him. Ask Mary, she’ll back me up on this.”

Ben and Anna looked at each other, then finally Ben nodded. “Something’s wrong, very wrong here.” Caleb stated. Anna couldn’t even speak. She saw the scene again, heard the wet cracking sound John’s ribcage made as it collapsed, saw his empty, glassy eyes staring into nothing. Then she remembered the heavily built military cyborg, as it pushed the APC away from its frame and leapt over it to run away. She didn’t want to believe the two are the same, yet a part of her knew.

“That’s why we never got his body back.” she said darkly. “Someone took it away and built it into… That.” Caleb sighed and put the ice down. “It makes sense.” he added. “And it might add a clue or two to our dear Major Hewlett. Let’s see if he can press some information from his superiors now.”

Anna nodded. “I’ll go talk with him.” Ben watched as she left, and turned to Caleb. “Listen, if word gets out, there will be panic. We have to do everything as quickly and discreetly as possible. Wouldn’t want Hamilton kicking my ass because of an accidental screw-up.” Caleb nodded. “I hear you, Tallboy.” “Good. I’ll do a sweep through all public surveillance systems, see if ‘Borg-coe pops up somewhere.” Ben added, then patted Caleb on the shoulder. “We got this. I’ll alert the whole crew as soon as I found anything.” Caleb wanted to share his friend and superior’s confidence, but he just wasn’t so sure this time. “I better go check-up on Mary.” he said, then left the cantina along with Ben.

Mary was standing in front of the restroom mirror, staring at her odd-hued eyes. She remembered the day she got the offer from Section 9, to enhance her vision and with that, end her harrowing migraines, which got more and more frequent and were connected to nerve damage in her eye. She remembered jumping at the opportunity. After the surgery and the recovery days, she got used to her new eye relatively quickly. Her only complaint was the different shade of blue her artificial eye had, opposed to her natural one. The difference was visible not only to her, but to everyone. She got herself thinking of the psychological stress her small cybernetic implant put on her, and comparing it to the one a person might feel if his whole body is changed into a machine. She saw the Captain’s face on a military cyborg. She had no illusions of his mental state.

 

Far away from it all, Peggy stared at the long, difficult lines of code, and the reoccurring words among the numbers. Restore. Will. Life. Soul. She felt a sense of relief mixed with nihilism, knowing whatever got started, it cannot end well. The Ranger 01 didn’t return after its mission, and she knew that meant the end for her project, and for the artificial life she created. “We shouldn’t do this to you.” she whispered to the running rows of numbers, symbols and words. “We shouldn’t revive you to this wretched state.” She heard footsteps, and Benedict’s voice asking “Who are you talking to?” Peggy turned around, and her husband could see the erratic code in green against black screen. “What is that?” Benedict asked in an angered tone. “You said the platform program works perfectly!”

Peggy stepped back. “It is. It’s working. But I tried to tell you before: He’s still there. The host-brain is still sentient. But you didn’t listen. As always.”

 

Neon lights lit the street under his feet. He was unsure of what to do or where to go. He felt confused, and mad, and lost. He remembered. Not everything, but most. He stopped next to an abandoned shop, and looked at his reflection in the window. He barely recognized himself. He still had his face, with big eyes in the shade of electric blue, his long nose, thin lips and angular jawline, but everything else was a machine. “What have you done to me? Just what have you done?” he asked lowly, and fled from the street into an alley. He slid down to the pavement, with his back to the wall, and was staring at his cybernetic feet. He tried to focus on his sensory inputs, but he couldn’t feel a thing. He remembered breaking a glass only by trying to hold it in his hand. Someone stumbled into the alley, and tripped over his long legs, an eternity later. “Hey, what the…” the stranger started to curse, and the cyborg raised his head. “Holy crap man, what happened to you?” the stranger was a lean, dirty man in rags. “You’re the Terminator, or what?” he asked. The cyborg slowly got up, towering over the smaller human. “I’m Captain John Graves Simcoe. Born 25th of February, 2052. Worked as liaison between the US and UK branches of an international organization called “Section 9”. And they murdered me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry also for the miserable fight-scenes. I should practice these more. >.<
> 
> Up next: Rise! Caleb and his friends are after their former co-worker, while he is out for revenge. The Major comes dangerously close to the truth.


	3. Rise Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Major Hewlett's investigation goes further, and he - along with his new colleagues - discover a disturbing series of events that might be linked to Captain Simcoe's case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there!  
> This chapter turned out to be a bit longer than expected, so I divided it into two. Which makes me need to mention that the whole fic will end up being longer than I originally planned it to be, so it will probably be either 6 or 7 chapters long. (I haven't decided it yet.) Another positive (?) note is that this one might not really be the "last fanfiction I write ever", because a dear friend of mine provided me with an idea and a will to collaborate with me... But shush, that's all in the near future. ;) I will, however take a break from fanfic writing after I finished this. (My OCs need me! Okay, maybe they don't, but still. I want to ruin their lives instead of historical figures'. XD )  
> Again, hope this chapter won't be a disappointment for any of you guys, you're the reason I keep going on! :3  
> Also, an extra thank-you for tvsn for making the perfect pun for Cyborg!Simcoe. I shall use it in the future, if you don't mind. :)

Meet the Hacker: [Glitch_Hacker](https://sta.sh/0w0pp96grru)

The last one of the pictures I made for the fic, so there will be no more spamming you guys. XD

* * *

 

_"I'm a soldier, born to stand_

_In this waking hell I am_

_Witnessing more_

_Than I can confuse..." - Origa, "Rise"_

 

“People usually imagine my work to be something mystical and exciting, while it’s just dull number-crunching.” Benjamin said while looking at Major Hewlett, who took notes. “I gather intel, organize troops, and – like in this case – help investigations. I had little to no contact with the Captain prior to his supposed death.” he paused, and added “We simply worked in different fields, and did not need to meet each other. The Raspberry Brandy was a whole other thing.” Major Hewlett was looking at a picture taken in the aforementioned bar a couple of months ago, and depicted a smiling Major Tallmadge, a half-asleep Lieutenant Brewster, and the Captain, seemingly in the middle of explaining something. A glimpse of the bartender and Corporal Strong’s hair and back were also apparent. “What do you think, what happened?” Edmund asked after a while. Tallmadge leaned back and looked at the ceiling. “I’ll be damned if I know.” he confessed. “Black market body-trafficking, or some other illegal way of obtaining corpses for experiments.” Hewlett clenched his jaw, like he always did when he was thinking. “But why he? I mean, Simcoe was an officer in a semi-military organization. Whoever converted him into his cybernetic body, should know that his face will be recognized. And the conversion seemed like a professional’s work.” Tallmadge nodded, he was thinking the same. “I shall dig the net for illegal workshops that do conversions. Let’s see if we can find something there.” Hewlett looked at the screen behind Benjamin. “You run a lot of search programs. Are they of any use?” A wide, proud smile spread across Ben’s face. “They are quite useful. I don’t want to bore you with technical details, but I can tell you, that they never failed me as of yet. I will find what we’re looking for eventually, and I guess a six foot three war machine can’t hide in the crowd for long.”

Edmund was feeling a little bit more confident than he did a week ago. He saw all of the members of the unit working together, like cogs in a machine, and it made him believe that they are close to find out what happened. He felt a hand on his shoulder, so he turned around to face Corporal Strong. “Oh, Anna!” he exclaimed in surprise. “I didn’t expect to see you.” Anna smiled. “I have a few minutes, so I thought why not pick up the thread of our conversation we had to interrupt.” The Major nodded and followed Anna to an unoccupied desk, and sat down. “After what we found” she started “I made a little dig of my own… In John’s belongings.” “Did you find anything?” Edmund asked. Anna nodded. “I did. His phone contained several incoming and outgoing calls and messages to someone named Benedict Arnold.” she paused, and seeing Hewlett’s confused look, she explained “Arnold is… was a high ranking police officer right until he got into a corruption scandal two years ago. It also had to do something with his firm. John seemed to have been into something with him. Maybe an assignment we didn’t know the details of.” Edmund hummed absently. “I already had plenty of reasons to make a call home, but now that you mention it…” he stopped, and stood up. “Thank you Mrs. Strong. Your work was immensely helpful.”

After they got separated, Edmund sat behind his laptop to write a report and ask around about the interesting clues he found. He was looking at the blinking prompt before attempting to gather his thoughts.

_> Report #20761012_

_> To: Major John André, S9UK ID177809_

_> From: Major Edmund Hewlett, S9UK, S9US ID177706_

_> After interrogation of personnel within the task force unit where Deceased was assigned, I discovered various details of questionable activity inside said unit. Deceased supposedly obtained implants through illegal means, or the nature and application data concerning said implants were classified for unknown reasons. Any inquiry regarding the medical and psychological records of Deceased were denied access. _

_> Task force unit encountered military grade cybernetic organism bearing the likeness of Deceased. Autopsy files and any other data about the circumstances and cause of death were denied access._

_> Further investigation yielded information about a possible connection between Deceased and a local corrupt police officer. _

_> Notes: Requesting access to medical records, psychological examination results and latest assignment reports of Deceased. _

Edmund looked at the screen, and sighed. He could have done more, or could have been subtler, but he knew he needed those files to be able to continue his investigation. He hit “send”, and hoped for the best. His thoughts wandered back to Anna and her friendly demeanour earlier. It looked like she’s warming up to the Major, as did everyone in the task force unit. Major Hewlett felt the same confidence he was feeling after he left Major Tallmadge’s lair of computer screens and surveillance programs. “We got this.” he heard himself repeating Ben’s words.

 

Mary crouched closer to the edge of the roof, positioning her rifle to see the target perfectly. Her cybernetic eye zoomed in to see what’s going on, numbers and various useful data about the wind’s velocity and humidity of the air was displayed in front of her, like she was watching the interface of a program. She remembered being dizzy at first, until her brain got used to seeing the world with two different eyes. She got the perfect time to shoot, when her vision started to glitch, and her head felt like it will explode. Then she saw the target, as it shed the illusion of his human form, and gaining the bulky, metal frame of a humanoid assault cyborg, with the face of a man she knew. Suddenly, the rooftop, her weapon, all were gone, and she was standing in front of the towering machine, looking down at her with his eyes that was still so eerily human. “Get away from me!” Mary said, backing away from the Captain’s morbid replica. He didn’t seem to hear her, or care about what she says. He took a step in her direction, and another, following her until her back hit the wall. “Don’t be afraid.” he said. His voice was still the usual falsetto, yet it sounded mechanical, like a record of someone’s speech, distorted by the speaker device. “Captain, I beg you, just leave me alone!” she felt terrified, like never before. The wall behind her felt like it’s moving, wires and cables slithered around like snakes, and Mary got tangled between them. The Captain didn’t move. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Woodhull, it won’t hurt.” he said. “Let me go!” she screamed. “You’re free, I’m not holding you.” Simcoe flashed his usual half-smile at her. Mary wriggled her way out of the tangle of wires, and at the same time she felt like some of those things attached themselves to her. “What did you do to me?” she asked, barely louder than a mewl. The Captain stepped closer, and held her. “You’re one of us, didn’t you know?” he asked, gently holding Mary’s face with his hand. “What do you mean?” she asked, her terror growing by the minute. He smiled at her, and pressed her face, like he was about to crush her head, but instead, he just opened it like a panel on a Jefferson android. Mary looked at the piece of her own face in Simcoe’s hand with shock. “None of us are real.” he said sadly. “All we are, just cogs in the machine.” Mary shook her head. “No, no I’m not a machine… I’m human.” she felt her tears running down on her cheeks. “I’m human!”

 She sprung up in her bed, soaked in sweat. Abraham was sound asleep, same as every other resident of Whitehall. Mary got up, and went out to the bathroom, to wash away the sweat and the aftertaste of her nightmare. As she was standing under the warm flow of water, she couldn’t help, but hear the Captain’s voice again _“We are just cogs in the machine…”_

She was still under the spell of her dream while the whole family was having breakfast. Abraham was feeding their son, pretending the spoonful of cereal was a plane, and Thomas was the supposed landing space. The little boy was entertained, shaking his head and trying to avoid the “foodplane” as long as possible before finally eating it, after Abraham shrugged and nibbled on it. “You give too much sugar to that child.” Mary heard Richard, her father-in-law, and Thomas’ grandfather. His voice contained a big measure of umbrage, and Mary knew that their peaceful morning is over. “Come on Dad, it’s just cereal.” Abe answered. “Not like he’s not eating anything else.” “It’s unhealthy.” Richard insisted. “He’ll lose his teeth before they even grew.” Mary wanted to say something, but she was still shaken by her nightmare, so Abraham had to stand his ground alone. “He’s getting enough veggies and fruits, don’t worry.” Thomas tugged at his father’s shirt, demanding attention and another plane with cereal. Abraham considered the usual morning fight to be done, but his father still looked at him with an increasing disapproval written on his features.

 

Anna looked at the gravestone she visited every time she had a chance. It was more than five years ago, the day she lost the man she thought she’ll spend a lifetime with. She felt no more grief, but a sense of emptiness. Once again, Anna found herself cursing the day she even considered replacing Selah with John. Bitterness took over her again, as she placed a single white chrysanthemum, cloned from the last specimens on Earth, onto the grave, and turned around to leave. She was all alone, with no one left to go home to. Even having an obnoxious redheaded Englishman waiting for her was favourable to that thought. But then again… John had died too. Whatever that thing was that they saw, it wasn’t him. She stopped and looked at the heavy grey clouds, hanging gloomily above the city. She wanted to see stars. Her phone’s buzzing interrupted her dark thoughts. Major Hewlett called, and asked how she felt, and if she would like to talk. Anna felt a spark of warmth, as she invited the Major over to a nearby coffee-shop. Maybe she won’t be so alone after all.

In the same coffee-shop Anna and the Major were about to sit in, Peggy looked at her empty cup. She was fishing out her credit card and was about to leave, but felt unable to stand up. She was tired, guilty, and mad. Then she saw the pair coming in and taking a seat at a nearby table. Then she was envious. When was the last time Benedict take her out to anywhere that wasn’t a lab or a corporate meeting? Peggy couldn’t remember. She finally gathered her strength and got up, preparing herself for another day in the lab. While she was walking away, she couldn’t stop thinking of the faces of the couple she passed by. They looked happy. She longed for those old days when she was happy too.

 Anna ordered her favourite coffee, and waited until she got it. She expected a formal, work-like talk with the Major, but instead Edmund was asking about her well-being, and how she coped with seeing John in a somewhat living state. “I am fine.” she lied, and even faked a smile. She didn’t trust Major Hewlett enough to let him under her shell. “I was shaken, especially after I saw what Mary recorded, but now I am fine.” Edmund looked concerned, but his features softened a bit. “Good to hear that.” he added. “I could say a few words if you need a little time alone though.” Anna shook her head. “No need Major, thank you. I wish to remain until the end of the investigation.” She silenced, and turned her head towards the bulletproof window. “I will request my discharge after we’re done.” she stated after the long pause. “You should think it over.” Edmund said. “Go on a holiday, rest, give yourself time to heal. But… I remember you saying, that you joined first the army, then Section 9, because you wanted to make a difference. And that is not something someone just throws out of the window. You can make it, Mrs. Strong.” Anna looked back at Edmund, and felt a warm sense, something she didn’t remember to feel for a long time now. “I appreciate your concern, but I had my decision. I will remain in active duty until we find out what happened to Captain Simcoe, locate the cybernetic hazard he became, and neutralize him. After that, I’m done with section 9, and the world.” The Major seemed to be saddened by her decision, but he just nodded and didn’t force the topic any further. Anna was grateful for it, and found it unusual. If one thing Selah and John had in common, it was their disregard for her will. She couldn’t count the times she had a fight with her husband and then her boyfriend about all the things she wanted to do; but she was ignored, like she was nothing more than a little girl, who doesn’t even know what she wants. Eventually, she just got used to it. The difference made the darkness plaguing her relieve a bit. Major Hewlett looked at the big screen above the counter, designed to display a virtual fish tank. He tried to identify the various, long extinct species when his phone buzzed. He got a text message from Major Tallmadge. Anna was looking at her phone too, meaning the message was sent to everyone in their unit. The text read “New intel found on target. All personnel return to HQ immediately.” Edmund and Anna looked each other in the eye, then both of them left the coffee-shop.

The whole crew was gathering in Benjamin’s lair, Caleb leaning to the back-rest of Ben’s chair, Mary standing next to them, and Anna and Edmund on Ben’s opposite side. All were looking at one of his many screens, depicting various cases of disappeared or killed police officers. “The cases became more frequent in the past two years.” Ben said, pointing at the dates of each disappearance and death. “No bodies were ever discovered or retrieved, and autopsy or other medical data were either classified, or deleted.” Anna was reading the names of the policemen on the screen. Sergeant McRae. Officer Odell. Detective Tanner. Officer Falkoff… And at least a dozen or more. “All of them were killed in action, or reported missing by their spouses or relatives.” Ben continued. “It all looks very fishy, and familiar, isn’t it?” Caleb hummed, Mary looked at Anna, who in turn looked at Edmund, who took the role of the speaker. “You mean someone was murdering police officers, and nobody spotted it?” Ben shrugged. “I can’t say for sure yet, but there must be a connection with our case, seeing the similar method, and the steps taken for secrecy.” Hewlett was also examining the data of the various personnel that went missing. All of them fit a certain description, all male, around their early twenties to late thirties. All working for the police at the same time of a certain corruption scandal… Edmund furrowed his brow. “Major, I think I might have an idea about who to bring in for interrogation.” he spoke, and Ben listened. “Look at the dates again.” Hewlett explained “According to my – admittedly limited – knowledge of recent local events, a big media hype surrounding a corruption scandal also took place at the same time.” Ben was thinking for a moment, along with the rest of the unit, then Caleb slapped Ben’s shoulder. “Your fellow Ben.” Tallmadge was confused. “Wha…?” Caleb looked at his friend like he was a short circuited Jefferson. “Arnold. Dirty cop-gone politician-gone businessman?” Ben started to remember. “Yeah, I know now. We couldn’t find any direct evidence, so all charges against him were dropped.” Caleb nodded. “That’s the guy.” “We should bring him in and question him about the disappearances of his subordinates and the scandal.” Hewlett suggested. “While doing a search in his firm.” Tallmadge was thinking, but then he nodded. “Right. Anna, Major, you go and bring Arnold in, Mary, Caleb, you go and search his office for anything you might find. I’ll stay behind and get necessary warrants, and maybe I can track our runaway cyborg too.” Members of the task force unit all went to their assigned business. Ben stayed behind, and sent all forms that were needed to get access to all the data and warrants they needed. He was so immersed in his work, he didn’t notice the glitches, which were more frequent until a completely new, red interface took over his screen.

_> Morrigan: I know what you’re looking for._

Ben tried to track the intruder, and ignored the text that repeated itself a few times, until he got bumped back from a server somewhere in the Coconut Islands. Tallmadge grudgingly accepted his only way out of the situation. He wrote back.

 > _Handler: How would you know that?_

He was waiting for a response, but only one word came before the whole screen went black then an error message appeared. It was “Armatech”. Ben cursed, unplugged his machine, and went out to reset the power supply before initiating the reboot protocol. He also felt an urgent need to redesign Section 9’s firewall.

 

In the shadier part of the city, where beggars and partly machine-partly human pariahs dwelled, a tall figure in a long, hooded coat headed towards a dark alley, where a sign advertised a place called a “Workshop”. As much as the tall figure remembered, workshops were selling illegal android and cyborg parts, made surgeries and programmed, re-programmed and built cybernetic organisms from scratch. Maybe he can find some answers here. The mechanic working there didn’t notice him entering, until an old fashioned bell rang above the door. “What’ll it be?” the older man asked without as much as looking at his new customer. The figure lowered the hood of his coat, and removed the whole piece of clothing, hanging it by the door on a deactivated Jefferson. The mechanic turned to him, and his eyes widened. “Wow, you got some metal on you, man.” “Tell me about it.” Simcoe answered sarcastically. “I heard you’re the one I should ask for a little bit of help with software errors.” The mechanic squinted at the towering cyborg with suspicion. “And who told you that?” The faint ghost of a smile appeared on the cyborg’s face. “A friend of yours, named Robeson.” his features returned to their expressionless state while he continued. “A tosspot that tripped over me in an alley a few streets from here.” The mechanic took a step back, as the cyborg came closer. “What do you want?” he asked, looking at the expressionless mask with terror. “I want information.” Simcoe answered. “I want revenge.” a cruel smile spread across his face, as he dragged the mechanic to his feet. “And first of all, I want you to help me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: "I can't hear meself! All I hear is Simcoe! He's in here, he won!" a.k.a. Caleb has his worldview shaken by a heavily cyborged former colleague.


	4. Rise Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armatech finds a way to prevent the Section 9 from digging deeper into their business, but they don't expect one of their "products" to do a little investigation of his own. Ben is seraching for clues regarding the mysterious "Morrigan", but he finds Simcoe instead. Caleb confronts his former comrade, but he isn't prepared for what he says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, dear readers!  
> Life and my other, collaborative project came in the way of updating my other unfinished fics. (also AO3 kicked me out for no reason. :S )  
> As I mentioned before, this chapter is supposed to be still chapter 3, but got too long, so I had to separate it into two pieces. I also plan several alternate endings to this fic, so there will might be an opportunity to "vote" on which ending should be the "final". I'll keep you posted. :)

 Anna was deeply in her thoughts while driving the way to Armatech’s office building. She had some suspicions about the corporation before, but somehow the pieces of the puzzle didn’t add up yet. Major Hewlett was looking out the window of the APC next to her, and was probably thinking the same. “You have a theory?” she asked the Major to break the silence. He turned to her, and looked at her with a surprised expression, then he inhaled and spoke. “As a matter of fact I do.” There was a short pause, before Anna spoke again. “Then let me hear it.” Major Hewlett took a deep breath. “You see, I’m not familiar with Armatech or its CEO’s meddling with politics, but I have a suspicion that he might be behind the missing people. Using them for some kind of experiment, or selling them off to the black market. Just think about what happened to the Captain, for example.” Anna didn’t want to think about neither Captain Simcoe, neither the mechanical ghost he became. “What if he got his implants from Armatech?” she asked. Edmund clenched his jaw, as always when he was thinking. “I suggest we ask these interesting questions from Mr. Arnold directly.”

The glass and metal frames of buildings went by as they manoeuvred through traffic to get to their destination. Edmund once again marvelled at the sharp contrast of the industrial and artificial nature of the city, lit with bright neon lights against the steel grey sky. The two investigators went through the building’s front door, and were greeted by a synthetic receptionist, that got her looks designed after a famed Broadway actress. Even her voice was given by the same woman, who made a fortune with this one contract. “Good morning!” her voice was creepily natural, unlike the artificial sound of a Jefferson. “Do you have an appointment?” Anna flashed her ID, and so did the Major. “We’re here to ask a few questions from Mr. Arnold, is he in?” she asked, and waited until the gynoid ran through her database and searched for matching protocols. “Yes, he is currently in his office.” came the answer. “Thank you.” Edmund added and followed Anna, who already left. They found the firm’s leading figure slightly irritated, as he was yelling with someone on the phone.

“I don’t care! It’s still on the loose, and hell knows what more damage it can do. Find it, and bring it back here! By any means necessary!”

Anna traded a glance with Edmund but they didn’t speak until Arnold hung up. “Mr. Arnold, we’re here from Section 9, and we’d like to ask you a few questions.” Hewlett spoke as soon as the other man turned his head towards the door. Anna was surprised at the Major’s serious and confident tone, but she decided to let Edmund do the speaking. Arnold wasn’t happy. “Excuse me sir, but right now is not a good time.” he said. “I’m afraid right now will have to do.” Hewlett riposted. “We have a search warrant and also an arrest warrant, so if you don’t want to spend the rest of the day in the hospitality of one of our holding cells, I suggest you make the time. We’ll be quick.” He even gave a reassuring smile. Anna felt her awe and fondness grow towards him. Arnold surrendered. “All right, but do make it quick. I have an appointment at ten, and it’s a matter of life or death.” Edmund nodded, then began to question Arnold about the disappearing policemen, and his corruption scandal.

Meanwhile Mary and Caleb also arrived and according to their warrant, began to search through the facility. Mary was still a bit under the spell of her nightmare, so seeing a lot of artificial limbs and various android parts made her feel uneasy. “What do you think they made these for?” she asked. Caleb shrugged. “According to their record, they’ve been to a lot of projects, many for the military. Arnold himself was a war-hero, remember?” Mary remembered, that back then, the man who ran this business was only a police officer, gravely wounded in one of the bigger mafia wars, and lost his leg. He gained a high quality prosthetic, an epitome of cybernetic efficiency. Looking at him now, nobody would suspect that one of Benedict Arnold’s limbs was artificial. “Why do I have a strong doubt of him being so altruistic to do a project on producing cyberlimbs for the masses?” she sighed. After half a day spent in various labs and warehouses, they had to grudgingly admit to not finding anything damning. “We better go back to Ben.” Caleb said. “Let’s hope Anna and the Major had better luck.”

Ben was spending his whole day trying to locate the mysterious hacker that entered his domain the last day. He searched through databases, criminal records, and found nothing. Whoever this “Morrigan” was, he or she did a good job disguising their trails. After a while, Ben gave up the search, and just casually scrolled through some of his other surveillance programs, when he saw something of interest: A tall, heavily built figure entering an illegal machine and body parts shop in the shadier district of town. Ben contacted Caleb and told him to go and look around in the body shop, and see what he can find there.

“It attacked me!” the proprietor of the not-so respectable establishment complained. “It demanded my services, and when I refused, it attacked me.” Caleb doubted that even one word of the guy’s tale is true, but he had to listen, while Mary went to the storage in the back. She found the usual containers with liquid nitrogen, holding body parts for transplanting, and the parts they used to upgrade or degrade cyborgs and androids. She even saw a few, unpacked models and one prostitute droid sitting with her eyes open, next to an offline Jefferson, that had a black sheet draped over it. “Excuse me…” Mary asked the man Caleb interrogated. “Is the Lola online? It might have recorded what happened, and if so, your claim would have a solid evidence.” The man stopped his complaining, and turned towards Mary. “Oh, that one!” he exclaimed. “She got damaged and began to malfunction, so she’s here for repairs, but I don’t think she recorded anything.” Caleb furrowed his brow, but Mary asked “Would you mind if we’d take it back with us to examine? It might contain clues.” The annoying little man stopped his whining, and shrugged. “Be my guest miss. Her owner should have pick her up a month ago. He never showed up.”

When they left with the damaged sex-worker droid sitting on the back seat, Caleb asked “What’s this all about?” “Lolas record and store information.” Mary explained. “It’s in their base program. Ben could be able to get inside her head and see what she has in her database, and even if she didn’t record anything, we’d still have to confiscate her.” Caleb was confused. “Why?” “Because all members of the Lola series had human DNA in them.” Mary answered. “Their skin was made from a sample of human skin, so it felt real. Eventually, all of the series developed a strange program error that made them believe they are actual humans. The manufacturing of the series ceased two years ago. Around the same time of the Arnold corruption-scandal and the missing police officers.”  Caleb whistled. “You know a lot of hooker-droids despite being a decent housewife.” Mary flashed a mischievous smile at him. “I wasn’t always a housewife, you know.” Caleb mirrored her grin. “Tell me more, please!” “I bet our guest will gladly entertain your dirty mind with all the data in her head, but now I suggest we return to Ben and get him to work.” Mary said, sitting in the shotgun-seat of the black car. Caleb started the engine, and they headed back to HQ.

“How many times I have to tell you, Major?” Arnold sounded angered. In fact, he was like a caged lion ever since they entered his office, Anna thought. “The details of the corporation’s projects are confidential, and I have no means to discuss them with you, or anyone.” “I suggest you to reconsider.” Hewlett said calmly. “You have serious charges against you, and if you don’t talk, we’ll have to bring you in, so quit fooling around. You were in charge of the district’s police department, when your men started to disappear without a trace. We haven’t found any sign of an investigation, or report on the matter. You are in deep trouble, Mr. Arnold. It depends on only you, if you sink or swim.” Anna secretly admired Edmund’s cold blood, she was close to shouting at the obnoxious man in front of them. “All right, all right.” Arnold said. “I knew about the disappearances, but chose not to go deep into the cases, suspecting all of the officers were involved with mafia wars. You probably know about it.” Anna nodded. “Yes, we know. Please continue.” “I faced trial after my resignation, and all charges were dropped.” Arnold continued. “I had nothing to do with the police officers’ disappearance, nor do I have to do anything with your runaway cyborg.” Hewlett clenched his jaw. “Armatech manufactures cybernetic implants and parts for the military, correct?” Arnold nodded. “And the cyborg we found was a heavily armoured, military grade specimen, with built-in weapons. Can it be possible that someone stole various parts from the company’s warehouse or a shipment?” Benedict furrowed his brow. He had a hard time deciding what to answer. Hewlett just placed the bomb on the table, and was waiting for it to detonate. Unfortunately for them, the appointment arrived early, and the cheerful synthetic receptionist called Arnold. “Yes, I’m on my way, thank you.” he said before hanging up. “I’m sorry, but you have to wait for a little to continue our chat.” he said with a bit more sarcasm than necessary. The he nodded and left. Anna looked at Edmund.

“What now?” she asked. Hewlett sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know. He smells fishy, but we have nothing to bring him in for yet.” “We will.” Anna stated.

 Ben looked suspiciously at his friends and the synthetic they brought to his lair. “What is _that_?” he asked, igniting Caleb’s usual wide grin. “Meet miss Lola, Benny boy! She’s a witness!” Ben hid his face in his palm. “Caleb, I understand that you have a rather childish sense of humor, and that you have a liking for certain brands of synthetics, but for the love of god…” Mary intervened just before Ben finished his sentence. “It was my idea. These androids…if that’s the correct term, record and store data. We thought you might be able to look into it… Literally if needed.” Ben looked confused. “But why would I do that?” Mary felt like she’s explaining a rather simple thing to her toddler. “Why Ben, Lola was there at the body-shop, the same time you saw Simcoe entering and leaving. She might have recorded what happened there.” Suddenly Ben felt a bit dumb. “Oh, right. I’ll look into it then.” Caleb plopped down on Ben’s comfy chair, and leaned back. “Wake me up when you’re done, will you, Tallboy?” Mary looked at Caleb then back at Ben. “What will you do to her?” she asked. “Not much.” Ben answered. “The memory core is pretty easy to access; I might not even have to open her head. I just need this little guy…” he pulled a thin cord out from the back of his neck with a small plug on its end. “… and connect it to her port… Mary, stop laughing, it’s… Not like that.” Mary tried not to laugh, but the blush on Ben’s face and the ambiguous nature of his sentence just made her day. “Sorry, Ben.” she chuckled. “Can I be of any help?” Ben cleared his throat. “Yes, I will need you to wake Caleb up. Also, could you please bring that chair here? Thank you.” He sat in front of the seated synthetic, which looked at the wall in front of her expressionlessly. Ben felt a pang in his heart, and also was a bit embarrassed as he leaned closer to Lola, to be able to insert the cord into the android’s port. He leaned back, and closed his eyes, as the data flew through him.

A few hours later, all of them were gathered around Ben and Lola, who had her software updated and a restriction chip applied to her, limiting her movements to speaking and moving her head to any direction, but she might remain seated on the chair she was placed on the moment Mary and Caleb brought her in. Ben was a bit shaken and embarrassed, but otherwise seemed fine. Anna glanced at the synthetic with disgust, but she wanted to know what Ben found. “I put her online for a few hours now. Her batteries are all charged, so we can see what’s inside her head.” “Do we want to?” the Major asked. “We have to if we want to see what happened in the body-shop.” Anna answered. Ben connected the android with one of his many devices, and suddenly they could see a complicated matrix of data and clusters of information regarding many man and some women. Ben found the recording made at the seedy shop, and played it. He already seen it, but he wanted the others to know as well. The short video started with the large cyborg entering the shop. Lola wasn’t too curious yet, her analysing software just wanted to detect if the cyborg is armed, so she checked with her database to find a match with the new “customer”. She didn’t find anything. They heard a conversation, where Simcoe wanted the annoying proprietor of the place to help him, and he insisted on refusing. The cyborg turned to the door for a minute making his face visible, and Lola found a match. Though not in her database of cyborgs, but clients. The gathered Section 9 officers saw their colleague’s face and various information regarding his measurements and preferences, and a short blink of the video, as the android recording it was in fact blinking. The conversation didn’t end with Simcoe turning around, he grabbed the much smaller and significantly weaker and fragile man, and hit his face to the surface of the desk he was standing next to. “I said, I need help.” his voice was lacking its usual faux-cheerful undertone, and was utterly threatening. “Don’t make it harder for both of us.” The little man flailed his hands and was squeaking something Simcoe leant down to hear, then he released the human. “What… What is it you want to know?” Simcoe seemed to think for a moment before asking something that wasn’t audible. The shopkeeper’s eyes widened, but he started to nod. “Yes, I have it. I can help you connecting.” The two of them disappeared from Lola’s sight for a long while, before coming back.  “…We became the new commodity.” they heard Simcoe’s voice, that was bitter and full of concern even distorted by the artificial way of its creation. “All those men, who disappeared, all the sudden and unsolved deaths of soldiers… It all makes sense now.” He sounded like he was torn between crying and laughing maniacally. “Why use artificial intelligence, which is flawed, when you can use a human brain, with a platform program, killing everything the person once was, leaving nothing but the skills and knowledge of said person? Brilliant. Though a tad bit twisted, even by my standards.” The shopkeeper was paler than the ghost in titanium before him. “What are you going to do now?” he dared to ask. “Lay low, or…?” Simcoe shook his head. “They have to pay for what they’ve done. Robbing me of my life, my identity, my humanity… And not just me, hundreds of people! I can’t let them get away with it.” The shopkeeper scuttled away from the bulky cyborg, trying to find his only weapon that might be able to buy him some time until he flees. But sadly Simcoe wasn’t one who could be caught off-guard that easily. With an annoyed sigh, he took the taser from the shopkeeper’s hand, and shocked him until he lost consciousness. He then dropped the weapon and turned to leave. Lola followed him with her eyes, and before he left, she spoke to him. “John?” the cyborg stopped and turned to her. “What happened to you?” he went over to her, and a sad smile appeared on his face. He didn’t answer Lola’s question, just caressed her face, and turned her off.

Ben looked at the others, and saw the look on Anna’s face that was bordering between horrified and determined. “Do we know where is this bastard now?” she asked. Ben nodded. “I managed to locate him… more or less accurately.” Caleb clapped his hands together. “What are we waiting for?” he asked. “Tin Can Man is out there, waiting to be exterminated.” Anna was the first to leave the room for the armoury, followed by Caleb, Mary, and the Major. Ben took a look at the idle Lola on her chair, staring at the wall, with a bright yellow cord joining her to the console. Ben sighed and turned his back to follow his friends. He didn’t even bother to turn the android off.

 

They thought they get lucky if any of the unit might find Simcoe in the run-down, ruined building with the remains of a spider-tank in front of it. Anna felt her stomach turn. “This was the place…” she whispered. Major Hewlett placed a hand on her shoulder, and she looked at him, turning away from the scene. “This is where he…” “I know. He has an awful sense of humour. Always had.” Edmund said. Mary took her position on one of the upper levels of the ruin, where she had enough cover, but also a good view to the area. She felt like in her nightmare again, fearing the Captain’s metal frame could block her vision, to come and confront her with the harsh reality: all of them are machines. Her cybereye zoomed in to the remains of the tank, and she saw movement. She replayed the last few seconds and tried to analyse what she might saw, but in vain. She then heard a very small noise, like a pebble rolling away. Then a shock made her cybereye to malfunction, and her brain to shut down. Before she lost consciousness, she heard a familiar voice saying “I’m sorry.”

 

Caleb was sneaking past the corridor towards the dead spider-tank. The door behind it was blasted open. He noticed with a sense of glee, that whoever did it, also took out the spider. He barely could scratch the thing with a rocket. He signalled to Anna and Hewlett that everything was all right, and continued to scout the area. He was halfway into the building’s torn interior, when he tried to contact Mary. “Can you give me a hint on if there’s anyone in here?” he said. “Not now, sorry.” came the answer from Mary’s radio, but on a very different voice. “Simcoe?” Caleb hissed. “Hello, Caleb! Continue your stroll through my lair, will you?” “If you hurt Mary, I swear…” Brewster threatened, but was cut off. “Please. What kind of monster you take me for? I didn’t hurt Mrs. Woodhull. She’s unconscious at the moment, but she will be fine when she wakes up.” Caleb tried to calm down. “You know, it would take me one word, and the backup would be so up in your arse you wouldn’t know where you end and where they begin.” Simcoe’s chuckle froze the blood in Caleb’s veins. “But you will not say a word to no one. Unless if you want to force me to really hurt Mrs. Woodhull here. I must express that I do not want that. I like Mary.” Caleb cursed. “All right, what do you want?” There was a short pause and Simcoe’s falsetto sounded in Caleb’s ears again. “I want to talk with you. Go over to the ruins of the elevator, and wait for me there!” He disconnected after that. Brewster didn’t have any other chance than to obey. He was sure that the bastard would gut Mary without batting an eyelid. He checked his gun, it had a whole round and a spare one, but he wasn’t really prepared for a heavily armoured cyborg. He sighed, and leaned to the wall next to the gaping hole of the former elevator-shaft.

“So we meet again!” Caleb heard the distorted mechanical voice of the Captain. “Cut the drama and show your face!” he answered. “Not…yet.” came a short riposte in the form of a glitched sentence. “I want to talk with you. But you need to lis…sten.” Caleb looked around, trying to spot his opponent. After all, where can a bulky, walking piece of metal hide? He also thought to ask for backup, but he didn’t want to endanger Mary. He was on his own as long as he can’t see the bastard’s face. “All right, I’m listening.” he answered. “I am not your enemy.” the cyborg’s distorted voice chirped in his ear. “Sure you’re not.” Caleb said aridly. “You didn’t even want to break the face of that body-shop keeper… Though I can’t really blame ya for that.” “That’s right.” Simcoe squeaked. “I didn’t want to hur…hurt anybody. But you see Caleb… This is…sss… war.” Brewster couldn’t not notice the erratic nature of the cyborg’s speech. “What the hell happened to ya? Sounds like you have a nest of bugs in your system.” There was a long pause before the digitalized replica of his former co-worker’s voice replied “Virus. I got infected when… I dug intttto Armatech’s database. Those body-shops have crappy firewalls and protection I tell you.” Caleb raised his brow. Like most big corporations, Armatech protected its databases with a computer-virus called “Blackout”, which was infamous for ruining equipment and effectively killing any hacker who was foolish enough to connect to them via implanted chip jacks. Simcoe not only survived the ordeal but all damage he sustained was a speech problem. “Well, I guess I really don’t need backup then. You got Blackout, so you don’t have much time left before it finishes its work.” Caleb shrugged. “You understand why I’d like to skip the small talk then.” he heard Simcoe’s voice, and he took another look around the ruins, hoping to spot him somewhere. “So, what did you find in Armatech’s databank?” Caleb asked, to get a bit more time. “Evidence. So much it could break them.” came the answer. “But I’m afraid I can’t just pass it over to you. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not about trust…” “Funny.” Brewster inserted. “Because I have none for you.” Another short pause before after a short episode of incomprehensible noise, the cyborg spoke again “You trusted me back then. Followed me even.” “Yeah, biggest goddamn mistake of my life.” Caleb added. “You didn’t hesitate to shoot the spider with that rocket, even when I was still in its grasp.” Caleb grunted and disconnected. If Simcoe wants to talk, he’ll have to come to him personally. However, he was still thinking of the last time he saw the Captain as a strictly human being. He wanted to end his suffering by being sure that the explosion will kill both the spider tank and Simcoe. He still didn’t know how he managed to survive until the rescue-team went back to gather his remains. He heard a ping on the radio, but ignored it. Then he spotted movement on his left. “Finally.” Caleb said aloud. “Talking about trust, and refusing to show your face only make you look like a complete douche.”

Simcoe stopped in a distance that Caleb could see his frame, but couldn’t really see the details. “Can you blame me?” he asked. “Last time we met, you guys were pretty eager to shoot me.” Caleb had enough and he was worried about Mary and the rest of the unit. “Enough with the chatting. What was it that you found against Armatech?” “They did this to me.” came the answer. “And not just me, there were people going missing, and getting killed in action. It was their work. They needed bodies… Or precisely, brains.” Caleb was thinking. The story didn’t add up for him, though there were actual clues in the missing policemen’s case that could be loosely tied to Armatech and Benedict Arnold. “Why would they do that?” he asked. What the former Captain told him, convinced him that the whole tale is a delusion. “Someone ordered it from them. Someone we both know.” Caleb laughed. “That’s a good one. I almost believed you.” the cyborg shook his head. “You and I Caleb, are two sides of the same coin. I have no grudge against you or your comrades, but your organization. If you keep working for Section 9, you will die. Or end up like me.” “So you mean the same anti-terrorist organization I work for ordered the execution and/or abduction of police officers and its own soldiers. How is that making any sense to you?” Brewster asked. “They ordered it! Armatech is just the executor, the whole thing was arranged by no other than the same people we were working for! There’s evidence of this in their own database.” Simcoe answered. “I have seen it, and they almost killed me again.” Caleb still didn’t believe a word he said. “Oh yea sure. How convenient. You go berserk, kill a bunch of politicians, run amok around town and then blame everything on the corrupted system…” “Everything is corrupted.” the cyborg said on its glitching voice. “I believed in the system once. Now take a good look at how it ended for me.” Caleb shook his head. “You keep yapping, and I might shoot you.” Simcoe came closer, Caleb heard the mechanical noises his artificial limbs made, and stopped in the beam of light coming through from the broken ceiling. Caleb was shocked to see what the other man had become. Parts were missing from its shell, revealing the wires, artificial muscle and sparking electronics where he probably opened up the outer case to try and repair himself. “Stay where you are!” Caleb shouted. The thing tilted its head. “If you would just listen…” Simcoe started to speak again, but Brewster cut him off. “You’re insane. I knew you always were. Why should I listen to you, you malfunctioning toaster?” “I’m nnnnnot... malf...functioning!” the response came with the usual glitch. “I’m not malfunctioning. You are!” Caleb still had his handgun ready, but he lowered it. “Why so silent?” Simcoe’s warped mechanical voice asked. “No snarky comments? No reaction? Why don’t you pull the trigger, Caleb? You were so eager just a moment ago.” his voice began to glitch again as he added “I hope you have sssome hea...vy stuff, because standard bullets won’t tttttake me down, as you can remember.”

Caleb only had standard bullets, but he only wanted to use them as distraction anyway. He hoped that the noise of the shots he fired at the monster will alert the rest of the team, if they were still alive. Simcoe was faster and stronger than he or any human, so Brewster had no hope of injuring or even slowing him. The nasty looking armblade slashed his jacket and his arm open, as he dodged the blow. He felt a sense of Deja-vu, like they were in that small square with the pool of stale rainwater and the tree. He fired another shot, hitting a loose plate of armour that fell off. That didn’t stop the machine. Caleb looked around for means to escape, or at least a way to distance himself from the mad cyborg. The only place he could go was the elevator shaft, but Simcoe stood in the way. Caleb had a desperate idea, that might get him a little breather. He aimed at the artificial muscle peeking through a hole in Simcoe’s armour, and shot. The bullet hit, igniting sparks and slowing the cyborg’s left arm. Now he was in a disadvantage, and Caleb could run past him… Or so he thought until he got another cut from the armblade, and a hit that almost made him black out. He felt as the cyborg lifted him from the ground with only one hand. “I didn’t want it to end this way.” Caleb heard the warped falsetto through the fog of creeping unconsciousness “Thank you. Your sacrifice will not be in vain.” The sound of metal sliding against metal hit his ear, then a sharp, all-devouring pain flashed through his whole body. Caleb screamed, and he kept on screaming for a long time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: Caleb switching teams (guess who survives?), Peggy wants Armatech down, while Simcoe is still on the loose.


	5. Runner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caleb turns against Section 9 after finding evidence of their connection with Simcoe's case. Armatech gets custody of the Ranger unit, and Peggy develops a plan, and plays Dr. Frankenstein.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Geez, I really should return to this fic sooner. :'D Sorry dearest readers, but I got distracted by many stuff. (As I mentioned in the Notes section of my other fics.) I'm currently in the process of ending all my unfinished fics (or continuing them), so I can focus on mainly my co-operative one... And though I wanted to end this story here in this chapter, I decided that there are simply too many loose ends to tie up, so I might try to do it properly, so I'll give myself a shot with this, and extend it to at least another 5 chapters. Yay or nay? :D

They heard the sound of gunshots from the run-down building. Anna and the Major rushed inside, trying to reach Mary, but in vain. Anna asked backup from Ben. “Seems like hell broke loose. We need as many men you can send here, and quickly!” she urged him through her radio, then both of them heard the screams. Edmund ran forward without even glancing behind, readying a device he brought with himself just in case. He knew most standard weapons were no match for a heavily armoured cyborg, but he hoped that a shockwave can knock it out long enough for them to be able to secure it. He ran after Anna, who already hid behind a fallen column, but when Hewlett reached her hideout, she moved forward. Edmund heard the blood-curdling screams from somewhere nearby. He sighed, and equipped his gun with the anti-cyborg taser, then ran after Anna.

She knew she should wait for backup. She knew it was reckless to run inside the building alone. But right now, Anna didn’t care. She saw Caleb in the clutch of the runaway cyborg, and she knew that she has to do something before it’s too late. Edmund arrived when she was about to jump at Simcoe’s back. Hewlett didn’t say anything, just shoved the modified taser in Anna’s hand, and gestured towards the cyborg. Then he stood up, and walked out from their cover. Simcoe’s armblade disappeared, making way for a small cannon that transformed from his right arm and hand. He targeted Edmund without looking directly at him. “Stop where you are!” his unnerving voice echoed in the stale air. Hewlett stopped. “Let Lieutenant Brewster go, Captain!” he spoke. Caleb was in a bad shape. “I can’t.” came the answer. Edmund found himself analysing the war machine in front of him. How many and what kind of built-in weapons it has? What measure of damage they need to cause to make it cease to function? Anna slowly sneaked towards the elevator shaft, trying to find a spot where she can get close enough for the taser to be effective, yet stay far enough from the monstrosity. “We can help you, in whatever thing you got yourself into.” she heard Edmund say. Then she heard the electronic mimic of a man’s laughter. “Help? Me? I don’t think so.” Anna peeked out from the pile of debris she hid behind, and saw Edmund slowly taking a step closer. She felt her throat tighten as she heard the mechanical noise the handcannon made while maintaining its aim on Hewlett. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with, Major.” Simcoe stated. “None of you do.” His head now turned completely over to Edmund’s direction. Anna was thinking. The thing captured Hewlett in its targeting system long before he appeared close enough to Simcoe for him to see. The cyborg’s program probably noticed her as well, but for some reason, the humanoid tank didn’t even hint at it. She shook her head and her distracting thoughts, and aimed at her former lover’s large frame.

Edmund was a bit startled, when the small bullet, connected with a wire hit the cyborg, and by the sparking and small lightning strikes that followed it. The cyborg’s systems began to malfunction, and it began to move like an old animatronic puppet with a dumb look on its face, then it blacked out, still standing and holding Brewster with its left hand. Anna walked out from her cover, and sent another shockwave into the already offline war machine. She just changed the battery and was about to fry whatever remained from Simcoe’s brain, when she felt Hewlett’s hand on her shoulder, and his grip on her weapon. “It’s enough. He’s gone now.” she heard him say. Backup arrived with Ben on their lead a few seconds later.

* * *

 

Caleb woke up and looked around. He didn’t remember what happened, and how he ended up in a hospital room. But he felt the pain of the cuts and stabs, and saw the face of a madman in his nightmares. He heard his name, and almost jumped out of the bed, looking for shelter from the mechanical monster that tortured him. But when he turned his head towards the source of the noise, he saw his friend, Ben. Tallmadge was standing in the doorway, with a plastic cup in his hand. “Thank god you’re awake!” he said, and walked over to Caleb’s bed. “How long did I sleep?” Caleb rasped. Ben shrugged. “A few days. Luckily your condition looked worse than it actually was, so the doc could patch you up quickly.” Caleb nodded. “What about that bastard?” he managed to ask, while Ben handed the plastic cup over to him. Caleb was grateful for the stale, old tea that was too hot. It still tasted like the best he had for years. Ben sat down next to his friend, and summarized the events of the past days to him. “After we brought you in for emergency surgery, we locked Simcoe in a secured container, and made sure that his life-support system is still working. I don’t know what that stuff is made of, but it survived the shockwave intact, and without any malfunctions. He was immobilized, and we called in the cybernetics-unit to open the shell and examine it ‘til the last screw.” Caleb nodded. “But none of us would expect what happened.” Ben continued, and Caleb couldn’t help but notice the bitter tone of his voice. “Order came from above, that we are about to hand the cyborg over to a committee, and they transported it to one of Armatech’s labs. I couldn’t track the location, or the source of the order, but it is true that it came from the heads of Section 9.” Ben glanced out the window, to the grey and gloomy ambience outside. “Something’s wrong, and I can’t add the numbers up.” he said, leaning back. Caleb didn’t answer. He was thinking. Thinking about what that crazy, haywired cyborg told him before slicing him up like a piece of Thanksgiving turkey. And the more he was thinking about it, the less he thought it to be utter nonsense.

 

Anna was waiting outside the office to be able to talk with Edmund, who was speaking with his superiors. He was concerned and acted very strangely the last few days. Anna knew that it’s connected to their short-lived capture of the cybernetic mockery of a man who once was her partner. She heard his last words “You don’t know what you’re dealing with.” Sure as hell she didn’t know, and it kept her awake at night, staring at the wall in her living quarters. She hoped that the Major can tell her some news that might ease the tension that was building among everyone. After a few minutes that seemed like eternity, Hewlett peeked out from his office, and gestured towards Anna to come in. She rushed in and closed the door behind her. “Anything?” she asked briefly, and felt her heart sink when Edmund shook his head. “I managed to get some morsels, but those are hardly enough for us to re-claim custody of the cyborg and to place Arnold under arrest.” he sighed. Anna sat down, and hid her face in her palms. “That’s it?” she asked on a tone that indicated both sadness and ire. “We just stop, accept that there’s nothing we can do, and that damn piece of metal just walks out of this, along with whoever created it?” Hewlett leaned to his desk, turning his head away from her, and after a long pause, he said “There are people way out of our league, who planned whatever they did with this. The terrorist attack the other day was only an experiment.” Anna raised her head. “Experiment?” she echoed. Edmund nodded. “A test-run for their new military product. Of course, we can’t trace it back to them, because no sign of an order or a contract or anything was found.” Anna shook her head in disbelief. “So, what are we going to do?” Hewlett sighed, and frowned. “Frankly my dear, I have no idea.”

 

Ben felt the same helplessness while he walked home from the hospital. Rain started to fall, and kept on, soaking the streets and the people going about their business. Ben stopped for a while, and stared at the vast concrete and steel and glass giants, that covered almost all light from the street level even on rare occasions when the sun showed its rays through the constant fog of smog. He looked at the roaring commercials, the neon signs, the holograms, and he felt he doesn’t belong. He continued his way through the humanoid drones walking around seemingly aimlessly, with their umbrellas. As soon as his small flat’s front door closed behind him, Ben collapsed to his small, uncomfortable bed, and let the stress and worry of the last few days wash over him, as he threw his arm around his face, to cover his eyes of the bleak existence he found himself in, every time he disconnected from the net.

* * *

 

There was something comforting in dead silence and nothing. And something very disturbing in the fact that he knew he was alive, though robbed of any sensory input… likely because he was robbed of a body. He lost all means to measure time, so he was stuck out of it, frozen in void, to think. And thinking he did, of all the things he remembered about the people he tried to warn, kill even, because they wanted to stop him from doing what he thought was right. He was thinking about the purpose of his continued existence, being long dead and probably better off forgotten. He didn’t know if he should consider himself lucky, or face the truth, that his stubborn consciousness is merely a residue of someone of no importance, and a malfunction at best. He didn’t know.

As the robots worked tirelessly on her secret project, Peggy watched over with similarly dark thoughts in her mind. As soon as the transport arrived with the Ranger01, she knew she must do something to interrupt whatever Benedict was up to. She had to interfere, and fix things, as long as they were fixable. So she made some calls. She told some information she never was supposed to tell anyone. She hinted on a possibility of her reconsidering her chosen job. And finally, she did some shopping. After all, a girl needs her stuff.

Only her "stuff" was composed of a heavyweight android base frame, artificially grown organs, fluids and chemicals, and containers that could hold a man of considerable size. Also, she had to borrow a few things from Armatech as well. Medical records, old IDs, and most importantly, data from a certain mainframe, she could use as an operating system. It took her days, but finally she could rewind what had been done. Peggy watched over as the robotic arms took the host-brain and its life support unit, and placed it into the opened titanium skull, that closed itself after the brain got inserted into it, and as the whole, skeletal frame got immersed into one of the containers, and the organs got planted into their respectable places by nanoids. A little voice inside her head told her that she is the biggest fool on the whole wide world, but she chose to ignore it. The disturbing, skinless apparition that emerged from the container after a while continued its journey to another, where it got an outer shell, transparent and fragile, and onto another, where it soaked in a milky fluid for hours before the sequence ended and the body emerged from it. Peggy went closer to take a look at her creation. It was the perfect replica of a man. A man she never saw in person, yet spoke to many times. A man she used as a guinea pig. She had to step back as two big fans started to blow hot air into the tube the body resided in. As time passed, his skin began to darken from milk-white to its original pale colour, and Peggy spotted some freckles here and there. His synthetic hair also began to change colour from white to ginger. She made it. She finally, truly revived him.

 

Benedict was livid. His wife went missing and stole equipment and classified data, effectively tossing Armatech over the proverbial cliff’s edge. She also stole the prototype along with all research data. He thought about giving her to those pesky Section 9 officers, but knew too well that it would be too risky. Who knows what else that treacherous woman took with her when she abandoned the sinking ship? He ordered a shot of the strongest whiskey from the gynoid who walked into his office, and watched as she left to fulfil the order. He started to wonder why he didn’t marry her instead.

 

Awaking from the long time spent in void was like being reborn. He now had eyes, but couldn’t really see yet, also he fell over, and felt a sharp pain in his leg when he landed. He wanted to cry out, but was unable to, he could only gasp for air, and tremble, as he noticed that he’s cold, and covered in some residue of a fluid of sorts. He heard footsteps, and felt two small hands holding his face. “Hush, it’s alright, you’re safe.” he was looking at a blonde woman, who seemed oddly familiar. He had millions of questions, but his head hurt so much. He blacked out.

Next time, he was in a room, laying in bed, covered with a blanket and a thin hospital gown. He felt strange, like he should remember some things, but was unable to. His vision was clear, and he had no headache, but still felt like he woke from a coma. He sat up, and slowly stood up, and began to explore his surroundings. He was in a cell, not a room. In a laboratory, not a hospital. He walked around, and stopped in front of a huge glass. He found himself staring at his reflection. A door opened on the other side of the glass, and the woman from before stepped in. “Don’t worry, you’ll be free as soon as the final touches are added. Right now, it’s safer if you stay there.” he blinked, and lowered his hand from the glass. “How did I get here?” he asked. His voice sounded too high for his ears, but he convinced himself it was his imagination. “Why don’t I remember anything? Who am I, why am I here? What happened?” The woman on the other side of the glass tried to calm him down. “It’s just temporary amnesia. It will pass in a few days. Until then, I recommend you to stay in bed. You can call me on the phone over there, if you need something.” she pointed at the nightstand, with a small lamp and a cell-phone. He turned his head, nodded then went back. He wasn’t satisfied with what he heard, but he thought he’ll wait and see if she told the truth. Something told him, he’ll find out rather sooner than later.

* * *

In another part of town, Caleb was also laying on a hospital bed, and was putting the pieces of the puzzle together. From what little he heard from Ben, and from what he experienced, and what that malfunctioning heap of scrap metal told him, he made a grim picture. It was true. Section 9 ordered one of its own officers dead, used his body as a source for an experiment, they ordered from a corporation that was nearly untouchable by law. From what he knew about it, they could never hold Armatech accountable for what they had done, because there’s no trace in their records of any kind of experiments. Also, the corporation could afford the best lawyers, not to mention their own organization was behind it, so they’d probably make all damning evidence disappear. Caleb turned around, and tried to sleep, but he couldn’t. He kept hearing the sound of metal grinding against metal. He kept hearing a warped, mechanical voice saying the same thing over and over. “If you keep working for Section 9, you’ll die. Or end up like me.” Caleb didn’t want either.

Ben woke up from his sleep hearing the loud beeping of his alarm clock. He got up, got dressed, and was about to leave for work, when he got the message. Caleb went missing. His usual morning drowsiness vanished, and he made the short walking distance to their headquarters running.

He found Anna, Hewlett, Mary and their direct superior in his lair of computers and wires. Hamilton looked concerned, while the others’ expressions were rather gloomy. Ben walked in, and before he could even ask, Hamilton told him what happened. “Lieutenant Brewster left the hospital around 2 a.m., signing a form that was requested from him, to be able to leave at his own risk. We do not know his exact location, or the reason behind his disappearance. The records of the hospital’s security system showed no one else beside him.” Anna shook her head, when Ben wanted to speak. He knew Caleb since they were kids. If anyone, he’d probably tell Ben if he was up to something. Yet he disappeared without a trace. Not a word. “Are we about to find him?” he asked. Hamilton nodded. “Bring him in, and question him about why he went off-radar.” he told Ben, then he turned around to leave. “And what if he doesn’t want to come back?” Ben asked. Hamilton’s answer made the already tense atmosphere literally freeze. “Neutralize him then. If he refuses to co-operate, we give you the right to use force.”

Everyone was silent for a long while. Ben sat down in his chair, rubbing his temples, while the others exchanged glances. They literally just got a hunt warrant for one of their own. “I don’t like it.” Mary said, leaning to the wall. “Me neither.” Ben answered. “We must find Caleb, and get to know why he ran away, and fast.” Anna looked at Edmund, then back to Ben. “What about Arnold, and Armatech’s experiment?” she asked. Ben shook his head. “Forget it! Right now, finding Caleb is number one priority. I know Hamilton. If we don’t give him results in 48 hours at best, he’ll order all task force teams from A to Z to hunt Caleb down.” Hewlett shook his head. “It makes no sense.” he said. “Why would your direct superiors capture one of their own? What if he got kidnapped?” “We’ll find it out.” Anna patted his shoulder reassuringly. Mary was unusually silent. She was thinking the same what Edmund was thinking. Somehow it all seemed odd. She heard Ben ordering them to move out, so she went with the others to the APC.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for keeping up with me, and my pitiful attempts at science-fiction. :) You're the best! 
> 
> On a personal note, I recently watched Blade Runner 2049, and I hated it in the most positive way possible. If you're into the more intellectual side of science fiction with a very dark and bleak look on humanity, I recommend it along with its predecessor. (Though please note that both movies have their own flaws, starting with the sometimes makes-no-sense dialogues to the weird fusion of film noir themes and cyberpunk which sometimes ends up being... well, let's just say that it didn't work for me, despite of how good it sounds. It made both films to have a sense of them not being sci-fi, but rather an attempt at some obscure artistic experiment.) Really, I could write a several pages long review of it, but I'll just cut myself short here. Go give the old 1982 and the fresher 2017 movies a watch, if for nothing more, the atmosphere and the music. 
> 
> Up next: Peggy and her new creation have a little chat before police breaks in and arrest her. Caleb is still on the loose, and Ben tries his best to locate him before anyone else. Morrigan reveals their true identity, and connection to the Section 9.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading, commenting, and giving me feedback of any kind. You guys are the reason I'm still around! Hugs!


End file.
